


Kings & Queens & Vagabonds

by taurussieben



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Allura/Shiro is an arranged marriage, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Angst with a Happy Ending, Blood and Injury, F/M, First Time, Getting Back Together, Infidelity, M/M, Magic Mumbo Jumbo, POV Multiple, Reunions, Second Chances
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-25
Updated: 2019-12-25
Packaged: 2021-03-10 14:02:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 37,833
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21832120
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/taurussieben/pseuds/taurussieben
Summary: How long can a love hold?What does it take to overcome a betrayal?What does a crown cost?King Takashi Shirogane needs to accept a truth, win a war and chase after the one thing he really wants.Queen Allura needs to grab her happiness with her own two hands.And Keith? Well, he never intended to return in the first place.
Relationships: Allura/Lance (Voltron), Allura/Shiro (Voltron), Keith/Shiro (Voltron)
Comments: 6
Kudos: 16
Collections: Sheith Big Bang 2019





	1. In a Dim Forest

**Author's Note:**

> I’ve done it. It is finished. And it is posted. My longest written work of fiction so far. Which is also completed. I had a lot of encouragement along the way, which I’m very grateful for. 
> 
> The awesome [cinnabar.artist](https://twitter.com/ArtistCinnabar) created the stunning art for the chapters. You can find them also on [Instagram](https://www.instagram.com/cinnabar.artist) and [tumblr](https://cinnabarartist.tumblr.com/).
> 
> And now have fun reading it!
> 
> Title inspired:
> 
> We are Kings and Queens and Vagabonds  
We are Kings and Queens and Vagabonds  
We are.  
So hold me down  
We are Kings and Queens and Vagabonds  
We are Kings and Queens and Vagabonds  
(Ellem - Kings and Queens and Vagabonds)

Aurora often thought about how she would die. She had hoped she would die from old age, years, decades in the future. Or maybe as a proud warrior in a battle for the freedom and justice of her people. She would outlive her father, the King of the United Kingdom, and her mother, the Queen. She would go down gloriously or under the watchful gaze of her family when she was old and frail, not able to hold a sword any longer. Her skin all crumbled up and dried, full of black and brown spots, the same ones the old women of the castle showed after they passed a certain age. Aurora would squint at the lot of them and not be able to remember the names anymore, all of them looking the same. Just like how old Anna had done right before she fell asleep forever.

Yes, Aurora had, from time to time, thought about how she would die. But in all that time, it had not been like this. Sweaty, with burning lungs and a heart that was just short of exploding right inside her. 

It should have been an easy mission. Aurora and a group of soldiers were sent out to inspect the border garrisons and return home five days later, just in time for the moon festival, her birthday.

Easy.

But when she and the soldiers arrived, they had found death and terror. Bloated corpses with missing eyes and tongues. The ravens had already feasted on them. A flock of them flying up, when they had ridden through the busted gates. They buried the dead as fast as they could, sending a bird home with the news. They had turned to the next Garrison en route, in the hope of finding it intact and the soldiers alive. Halfway down the road, they had been ambushed.

The captain had sent her horse running. Aurora had wanted to turn around, but she set her jaw and gripped the reins. She needed to survive.

Realizing the attackers were hot on her heels, made her fear the worst. A hole in the road had made her horse stumble. One leg sticking out in a weird angle. Aurora had swallowed and set out on foot.

Everything hurt. Aurora was not sure anymore that she was moving at all, maybe she just stood still, and the earth shifted around her.

She ran. Her feet finding just enough traction on the slippery forest floor. Aurora needed to catch herself a few times before she tumbled and crashed down. Toppling over would probably mean her end. Her lungs burned, her whole upper body hurt. And still, Aurora tried to run even faster. She could hear them over her wild pounding heart, hear the heavy hooves of their horses, the wild voices shouting through the woods. They echoed around her, deep and guttural like claws in her soul. It was a language she had never heard before, but she knew who was pursuing her. The lilac sheen to their skin she had glimpsed in the distance and the glowing eyes belonged only to one race, the Galra.

Aurora swallowed bile down and kept on, deeper into the crowded part of the forest.

Suddenly, the world turned upside down. Her foot had only found air. The hard landing knocked the breath right out of her, whatever had been left. For a second, Aurora just lay there stunned. The blood rushing in her ears, the wild staccato of her heart, the tremble in her muscles. She tried to move, tried to shift a finger, to do anything, but she only melted deeper and deeper, her limbs growing even heavier.

The shuffle of hooves made her turn her head. Out of the corner of her eyes, she could see the Galra, big with grim faces; they had come to a stop at edge she had tumbled down from, looking down at her. There was no triumph in their eyes, only determination. The biggest of them sat down and walked down the small slope. He drew his sword on the way, it was magnificent; huge and black, with strange lilac symbols.

Aurora tried to gather her strength again, but none of her limbs wanted to obey. He came closer, too close. He raised his sword up, the point directly over her heart and she closed her eyes. And...nothing.

She blinked.

The big Galra swayed on his feet. An arrow sprouted from his neck. He bent down, a gurgling sound as blood dripped from his mouth, before he crashed down onto Aurora. She choked when she got a mouth full of sticky red liquid, it had a strange burned taste to it. Yelling started. A mad scramble began as the others went after their swords, getting down from the horses and rushing at her.

The next one fell to another arrow lodging deep in his neck. The second was lucky enough to cut the oncoming bolt down, but was felled through a second one that he did not see coming. Aurora tried to move the heavy body on top of her and was just able to wiggle him down her torso, before strength abandoned her again. She saw movement out of the corner of her eyes, a shadow through the trees, there was a metallic clank, and another Galra lost first his sword and then his head. The shadow moved, striking another Galra down. The remaining soldiers took the hint and turned to run, but the shadow was merciless and mowed them all down.

Aurora stopped struggling and let herself go limp. Every breath was painful, slow, and deliberate. Her vision swam out of focus. She struggled with making sense of the situation. Was she even saved?

Aurora closed her eyes.

Everything turned dark.

Then silent.

* * *

The crackle of fire woke Aurora. It was a sound she knew very well; from the long winter nights in the study of her father. His head heavy, while he scribbled parchment after parchment full of words, she had not yet been able to understand. From time to time, he would lift his head, his white hair grey in the flickering shadows, the gold of the crown glinting. He would smile at her and return to whatever letter he was drafting. She would be curled up in one of the heavy armchairs, reading, drawing, or just daydreaming. Until the crackle would lull her into a peaceful sleep.

* * *

Aurora blinked her eyes open and groaned. Her head hurt, her body ached, and felt strangely heavy. She tried to wiggle her toes or lift up her arm, only to find it impossible. Panic grabbed her for a moment, squeezing her heart tight and making breathing difficult. She pressed her eyes closed again and counted slowly. And again, and again. Aurora could feel the clothes on her body, a blanket on top. There did not seem to be any chains or bindings holding her down. She exhaled as silently as possible. She turned her head to the side. A small fire was lit, the warmth of it seeping into her. On a makeshift stand sat a little pot, and someone was stirring in it. Dark robes hid the body and the face. A sudden wave of pain pulsed through her, and she groaned out loud. The figures' head snapped around. She tried to peer under their hood, but the backlight of the fire and her still hazy vision made it impossible to make out any features.

"I—" Aurora tried, but her throat felt rough, and the words in her mind flowed into each other.

"Sleep." A voice commanded, it was smooth like honey, she blinked, and fell asleep.

Bird songs. The rustling of tree leaves. The shuffling of feet. When Aurora opened her eyes this time, she found that it was already day. Again she took stock, her body still heavy, but the pain had receded some. Only her arm flared up when she tried to shift it. She must have twisted it or worse when she rolled down that small slope.

She turned her head to where the fire had been before. She blanched. A Galra was hunched over the smoking embers. Aurora froze, then made a slow movement for her sword. Which was not at her hip because she laid injured and exhausted in a bedroll, and even if it had been there, she would not have been able to even lift it.

Aurora groaned, the head of the Galra snapped around at that. The shining eyes fixating on her. The lips drawn back, Aurora had a perfect view on the rows of perky teeth. Was this how she would die? Only slightly better than being ambushed?

"Acxa." The honeyed voice from before came from somewhere above her head, cutting through the stalemate. The Galra, Acxa, blinked and shrugged. There was something amused in her face. Aurora tried to move her head around more. But she was only able to see two worn leather boots and the hem of a robe. It was dusty and patched at the end.

Acxa said something in her guttural language before she snorted and turned. Aurora could trace her to the woods on the other side of the clearing they must be in. As soon as she was swallowed by the shadows, the boots came closer, the other crouching down next to the fire pit. Now in the light of the day and with his hood drawn back, Aurora was able to study him. He was human. And good looking. Long dark hair was partly woven into incarnate braids, clasped together with small golden rings, that twinkled in the light of the sun. His eyes were a deep blue, bordering on a strange violet hue. His profile was sharp, a scar running down the cheek of his left side.

He looked over, and she croaked, "Galra." And blushed. That was not what she had intended to say as her first word. But the stranger turned to her fully and smiled; it was small and fleeting. "Yes, she is Galra. But you are safe, I promise."

Aurora blinked at him. Because she could not really do anything else. She had to believe him. At least they had saved her, and that needed to count for something, right?

"What is your name?"

She paused. "Aurora," she blurted out before she could think too deeply about it. The stranger nodded. "Very well, Aurora. We will stay here for a few days. It will be some time before you have enough strength again to travel the distance." He stopped, turning his head and looking into the woods. "Acxa will accompany us. Which city do you call home?"

"Garrison." Aurora coughed.

"United Kingdom?" He asked gently. At her careful nod, he sighed. He suddenly looked much older, harsh lines around his eyes and the mouth. "Very well."

"Why?"_ Why did they help her, why did they save her, why did they want to bring her home?_

"Because it is the right thing to do. And now sleep." His right hand waved in front of Aurora. Again, it was like a spell had been cast upon her, but there was no magic in these lands, not anymore. But her body relaxed instantly until she nearly melted into the bedroll. Right before darkness retook her, she heard a faint whisper.

"Of all the places…"

* * *

It was the crackle of a fire, again. Aurora’s father was sitting in front of her, in that comfy high chair, his place. He had placed his crown on the side table. He always did that after a long and tiring day. In just his shirt and breeches, he looked like any other man. His ankles were crossed, a book lay abandoned in his lap, his eyes and mind were far away. He probably searched for answers in the flame of the hearth. Responses to the secrets of the world, or answers to the many questions the council and the people of the kingdom seemed to have.

"Father?" Aurora asked carefully, but she still startled him. The book slipped out of his loose grasp, falling with a clatter to the floor that seemed unnaturally loud in the study. He glanced at her before he bent down to pick it up, laying it down next to the crown.

"Hi, pumpkin." He said with a smile, it did not quite reach his eyes.

Aurora pouted. She was fourteen, not a small child anymore. "I'm not a pumpkin." She had proclaimed, her arms crossed.

Her father had only smiled.

* * *

When Aurora woke from the dream, Acxa was tending to the fire. Her small frame was hunched over, her brows knitted in concentration. She fed the embers wooden sticks, coaxing it to life again. They must have kept it burning through the night. On the other side, Aurora could just make out the one without a name, tending to what looked like small rabbits. They didn’t notice that Aurora was awake.

"How long do you plan to stay here, Keith?" Acxa asked while she shifted a few sticks around. The newly awakened flames licking at them.

Keith rolled his shoulders, not looking up. "Until she can sit in the saddle again for at least half a day so that we will be able to cover some ground." Aurora saw how Acxa studied Keith for a moment. His head was still bowed over the animals. There was the sound of bones cracking.

"Will we go all the way to Garrison?"

"Probably."

"Keith."

"I know."

"You—"

A sneeze made both of them stop. Aurora had not been able to suppress it. Bugger. They both looked over and found her clearly awake. Acxa smirked and said something in her language, it was growling and guttural and made Aurora shiver slightly. Keith laughed as an answer before Acxa again took off into the woods. Keith finished up whatever he was doing before coming over, cleaning his hands on a rag, they smelled faintly metallic.

"Feeling better?" He asked gently, his eyes kind.

"I—" Aurora croaked again. She smacked her lips together, her throat was parched, her stomach growled faintly. That was a good sign.

"Acxa is getting water. The stew will be ready soon." He waved with his hand towards the rabbit, that was now chunks of flesh. She could also see some mushrooms and berries. Aurora nodded, speaking hurt.

When Acxa came back, she helped Aurora to sit up and put a cup to her mouth. The body at Aurora‘s back was soft and warm, but her eyes unreadable. The hands that helped to guide her were steady, the rim of the cup was kept at a perfect angle. "Slowly," Acxa murmured. Aurora tried to obey, but the cold water felt heavenly. After she had finished, Acxa helped to rearrange her with her back to a tree, so that she could have a better view. It felt strange being upright after having laid down for so long.

"How—" she tried again. "How long has it been?"

Keith stirred the stew in concentration. Acxa was walking around packing stuff. "One day, nearly two."

Aurora cursed. Longer than she had thought.

"Will you be missed?" It sounded more like a statement than a real question, she looked over at him. But his eyes reflected only the light of the fire.

"We— I sent a bird from my last destination, it should have arrived by now. The ambush happened before I reached the next one. So there is clearly a gap in the communication. Maybe two more days, before concerns are raised."

"You expecting trouble?"

"I'm not sure." Aurora furrowed her brows in thought. She had never been in this position. How would her father react? "I don't know."

"We will have to see. Hopefully, they will ask first before they start shooting at us." Keith smiled and handed her a bowl of stew. She blinked at the outstretched hand, steam rising in lazy curls. She tried to raise her arm, either arm. His hand never wavered, his face was void of any kind of emotion. It took Aurora a few heartbeats before she could free her left arm and raise it high enough to take the bowl. Keith kept his hands on it until it was safe in her lap. He remained at her side until she started eating. The stew was rather bland but warm and filling, everything she needed at the moment.

By the time Aurora had finished, she was nearly asleep again. Someone took the bowl from her, and hands guided her down. She was asleep in seconds.

The pattern repeated itself for the next three days. In the second day Aurora could sit up on her own, the third found her already standing, even if she was still a bit shaky. Aurora looked at Keith. "We should ride."

"You sure, you can take it?"

"Not really. But I need to get home, I need to get back to my people."

"Your—"

"Keith!" Acxa came running out of the woods. "We need to get moving. The wind brings danger."

Keith looked up, his fingers making a strange gesture. Black smoke rose between him and Aurora. Upon seeing it, he cursed. "Well, it seems we will find out if you can ride."

"What is it?"

"Galra," Acxa said, already packing up. There was not much. They always kept their stuff together, ready to ride at a moment's notice.

They put Aurora in front of Acxa, who had an arm around her waist to keep her close and steady. Securing her against the warrior's body, now hard with the strung tension.

They made haste.

When the sun had reached over the midday point, they took a short break. Aurora swayed in the saddle, dots spreading over her vision. She knew she was not okay. Acxa supported her on the way down from the horse and handed her one of the water bottles. Aurora drank greedily.

"How long until we reach Garrison?" Acxa asked.

Keith studied a map. There was an angry twist to his mouth. "Three days, _if_ we keep riding." No stopping, no sleeping.

"Do we have a choice?"

Keith made a complicated gesture with his hands. The smoke was even darker. "Not really."

Acxa looked down at Aurora Sitting on the cold earth, who only found it in her to smile weakly. The sweat was standing on her forehead. Her fingers trembled slightly.

"Okay, kid. This will be hard. Halfway to Garrison is a small town, we will change horses there and keep going. If you feel like dying, tell me. Fainting is acceptable. You up for it?"

"No, not really." Aurora sighed.

"Well, no choice there."

"I know."

It was hard and harrowing. Aurora was sure she fainted more than once, her whole body going numb at one point. But Acxa's grip on her was secure, letting her slip not even once. Aurora had never seen a female fighter like Acxa. Garrison had a few, but they were bulky women. Acxa was graceful. Fluid in her motions, in a way that seemed nearly impossible. Keith, on the other hand, was different. He tended to hide in the shadows even on his horse, always using the shade cast by the treetops. Keith was a presence, not a flashy one, but quiet and solid. From time to time, he would weave a pattern in the air with his fingers to gauge the distance of whatever was chasing them, Acxa explained to her. His fingers worked gracefully, small precise gestures. Magic was something surprising. The United Kingdom had the druids of Altea. The last ones, as her mother always lamented. The magic was running dry or whatever power the druids used. The word magic had never been said outright. Aurora had read it in the many books of the library.

Every time the spell went up in smoke, Keith did not say anything, but his grimace, tight and drawn, would tell them everything. The pursuers gained.

On the second day, they finally crossed the border into her father's territory. It should have brought Aurora some relief, but the danger did not end. Shortly after they reached the remote village that they had talked about. A small farmstead with a few houses clustered along the main street. They made a stop in front of a paddock. A farmer had seen them coming, and was already on his way over. He had a grim face and a grey beard. He looked at them with suspicion.

"Can I help you?" His eyes never left Acxa's.

"We need a change of horses," Keith said, drawing his hood down. It did not help to ease the tension of the farmer's shoulders.

"I'm not—"

"Please." Aurora interrupted. The farmer turned his head back, and she saw the moment he recognized her. His eyes went wide.

"Princess?" He stuttered, his gaze sweeping over all of them. She must be a terrible sight. Dirty, roughed up, swaying in her seat, the arm of Acxa still around her.

"You will be compensated, but we must hurry." She could see Acxa and Keith exchanging glances. They did not look...surprised.

"We need to get her home as fast as possible." The farmer was suddenly all business. He turned and called after someone. A young boy hurried out of one of the barns. They exchanged a few quick words before the boy ran off again. She hoped it was to round up horses. The farmer stepped closer and helped to bring Aurora down and to get the packs off.

"Can you stand, your highness?" Keith asked, catching her at the elbow.

Aurora blinked for a moment but nodded. "I will lean against the fence." He helped her over.

The boy came back, with some magnificent beasts, black and healthy. The four of them made quick work, before hefting Aurora up again, she sank back down gratefully.

"Stay inside for the next two days," Keith said to the farmer and the boy before they rode out again, hard.

A day later, half a day out of Garrison, the earth shook. It was first a small tremor, Aurora thought for a moment it was her muscles trembling from exhaustion. But no, Acxa’s arm around her tightened, and Aurora could see her turning her neck, looking behind them, then down, then at Keith, who nodded. Then the earth moved in front of them, a wave coming right in their direction. Aurora watched it, surely she must be dreaming. But Keith cursed, and there was another wave, colliding with the one headed towards them. Mud and dirt sprayed in every direction and onto them. Acxa had trouble keeping control of the horse. In the distance, something screamed.

"They are closer than I had thought." Keith wove a spell, releasing it down into the earth. There was a ripple in the dirt. "Go." He said.

They both stopped the horses, Acxa came closer. She clasped his forearm in her hand and pressed their foreheads together for a second. "Stay safe."

"You as well."

Acxa turned without another gaze and rode hard. Aurora twisted slightly in her grip, to see what was going on. But the arm around her tightened painfully, and soon the way curved and trees obscured everything. Aurora felt a tingle in the air, a static raising, she shivered, the hairs on her arms stood up. A shadow passed over them. Aurora raised her head to look up. Dark clouds were gathering, lighting flitted through them. The sky had been blue a few seconds ago.

"What is going on?"

"He is saving us," Acxa said, before urging her horse on. They went even faster. Thunder rolled over them, ending with a booming sound in the distance. Then rain started to fall. First, a drizzle, then it came pouring down. Acxa cursed, but her grip was steady and her gaze focused.

Soon they could see the first houses in the distance, the outer rings of Garrison's jurisdiction. The streets changed, from dirt to cobblestone, the hooves echoing loudly. People ran around, securing their belongings against the oncoming storm. Acxa kept a direct line to the castle, paying no heed to the people that needed to dive out of the way.

_Soon_, Aurora thought, _soon she would be home_. A new wave of dizziness swept over her. She felt faint, more than before. The lack of sleep and food was finally catching up to her. She could see Acxa frowning, holding her even closer. It hurt a bit. The metal of Acxa‘s armor digging into Aurora‘s spine. The faint pain gave Aurora something else to focus on. The drawbridge was down, the guards unprepared, so Acxa thundered over it. Bells started to ring. The alarm bells. What had happened?

Aurora‘s vision swam as she lost focus. Everything suddenly stopped. She heard voices, shouting. More yelling, the sound of steel, swords being drawn? The steady rhythm of the heavy rain muted everything. And right before she lost consciousness Aurora heard the thundering voice of her father, laid over everything.

"What the hell is going on?"

* * *

King Takashi Shirogane, sovereign of the United Kingdom, watched the gathering storm with a deep furrow between his brows. From time to time, his eyes would flicker to the small missive on his desk. It had arrived six days ago, a few short sentences in the spidery crawl his daughter Aurora called handwriting. The news had been troubling. Since then, there had only been silence. He swallowed his fear down. His daughter was capable, the soldiers with her were honorable. And still…

Tomorrow, Shirogane said to himself, tomorrow he would gather his men and ride out.

Rain splattered against the window. He returned his gaze to the clouds. The whole storm filled him with unease, it felt unnatural.

A sudden knock startled him out of the thoughts.

"Yes." He called.

"Your majesty."

King Shirogane turned. The head druid Ulaz stood in the open door, subtly shifting from one foot to another.

"Ulaz, did I miss a meeting again?"

The other chuckled, but his eyes remained serious. Ulaz‘ dark robes shifted again.

"What is it?" Trepidation filled the King. Had there been news about his daughter?

"Something is coming."

Shirogane paused. Then he felt it zipping along the back of his neck, a specific kind of static. "Galra."

Ulaz nodded.

"Sound the bells." He shouted. He could hear a guard running. Five minutes later, the bells rose, together with shouting in the courtyard. Shirogane whirled around and looked down through the windows. The heavy rain made it difficult to make out what was happening. A lone rider had arrived, he could see long white hair. He blinked, and was out the door before he even finished the thought.

The second the king stepped out into the open courtyard, he was drenched to the bone. He heard shouting and cursing and saw people gathering around the rider, the horse dancing on his hooves in fear, on the verge of panic. The riders hood had fallen back, the features distinctively Galra. The guards had drawn their swords, but the Galra snarled at them. Holding something in her arm.

Shirogane shouted. It made them all stop. A groan could be heard over the steady beat. The Galra looked down in concern, the King followed her gaze and cursed.

"Your princess is injured, do you have a healer?" The Galra’s accent was heavy.

"Send for Healer Lance," Shirogane shouted. Two of the guards sprinted away. Everyone else watched the scene warily. "And put your swords away." There was a tense second before his command was followed. The Galra nodded at him, some of the tension leaving both rider and horse. She slowly eased Aurora down, into the waiting hands of another soldier. The lanky build and sandy blond hair, now plastered to his forehead and armor, identified him as Matt Holt, the captain of the guard. His hands were slow and precise, curling her up in his arms, inward to his chest, trying to shelter her from the still pouring rain.

Shouting rose at the kings back, a few men were sprinting out, at the front another lanky many, a bit smaller than Matt. His eyes intent, his robes flying in every direction, Healer Lance was all business. Matt hefted Aurora a bit higher and made his way over. Shirogane stepped up to them. His daughter looked faint. Her eyes blinked open, focusing on him. Aurora murmured something. The king need to lean down to catch it. „Please... saved... she saved me.“ Before her body went limb again. Alarmed the king turned to Lance, who just shook his head and accompanied by a flock of helpers, he and Matt walked inside.

The Galra sat down, while a stable boy slowly approached her. The tension and fear on his face was plain to see, but he was brave enough to take the reins. Two others were already taking the packs down, careful to not get them muddy. The horse danced a bit on his hooves, but the Galra petted it on his nostrils and whispered something, Shirogane was not able to catch. The horse relaxed, and the stable boy led it away. For a moment, they were alone. The guards had dispersed, the boys were bringing the packs inside. They were two strangers under the pouring rain.

Anger flickered inside the King, irrational, unbidden. He tried to tamper it down, but something must have shown on his face, as the Galra took a step back, tension returning to her face.

"What is your name?"

"Acxa." The tone was clipped.

Shirogane deflated. "I— Please be our guest, tell us what has happened." He made a hand gesture to the castle, to emphasize what he was talking about. "My steward will prepare a room and a hot bath if you desire and something to eat."

Acxa studied him for a moment, then nodded, stepping up next to him and walking through the entrance into the hall. Both of them dripping on the floor. A burly man with dark skin and even darker hair and eyes stepped forward. His hands already grappling for the heavy and wet coat of his King.

"This is Hunk, he will provide you with rooms and a bath."

Hunk blinked but nodded. He draped the coat over his arms, pointing in the direction of the stairs.

"I will find you in the library." The King said before sweeping away. He needed to check on his daughter. Everything else could come later.

He knocked at the door, before opening it and stepping inside without being prompted. Matt stood at the foot of the bed, his hands resting on the raised wood there, looking concerned. His Queen was already present. She had the hand of their daughter clasped in her own, her beautiful face was furrowed. Aurora looked dreadful. Her hair was plastered to her face, her breathing was slow and ragged, dirt clung to her. Lance stood on the other side, one hand on her forehead, his eyes closed. The King slowly walked closer.

"How—"

But Lance answered without even opening his eyes. "It looks worse than it is. She is mostly exhausted. She needs rest, a few good meals and water, and she will be soon up again."

"Her arm." Shirogane‘s eyes traced the bandaged-up limb. It looked fresh.

"It looks okay. I dressed it newly, there is no festering or any open wound. I will consult with the one who brought her to find out what happened, to see if something more needs to be done."

"Thank you." But Lance only shrugged. He took his hand away and made a few notes in his journal.

"What happened?" Matt's voice was barely more than a growl. His eyes had narrowed. He had always been somewhat protective of the princess. Also, she was his best pupil.

"Just give me a minute with my daughter."

"Go." His Queen's voice rang through the room. Allura watched them fondly. She had raised her hand to Aurora's cheek. The princess calmed slowly, drifting off to a more peaceful sleep. "I will keep watch with Lance."

The king watched her, but she only offered him an apologetic smile. Allura knew him, he wanted to know, he wanted to ask the stranger in his walls what happened, and then he wanted to hurt someone. Shirogane walked to the bed and kissed his daughter on the forehead, he felt Allura's fingers dance over his temple. He smiled at her before straightening up again. He nodded to Lance and bowed again to kiss his wife on the temple before stepping out into the hallway.

The rain was still falling outside. The sudden cold made the king shiver.

"Maybe, you should change as well?" Matt said behind him, as he too stepped out and closed the door to Aurora's chambers. Another shiver ran down his back, while the cloak had held back most of the downpour, he still had gotten wet. "You are right, it will also give our guest a little more time."

They found Acxa later at one of the tables in front of the library hearth, a roaring fire was already going. Hunk lurked on the side, ready for them. The King nodded to the guard inside, who saluted and scrambled away. The Galra only looked up for a second as the king sat down, too occupied in wolfing down the hot porridge and warm mead. Her cheeks were slightly flushed. She had changed from her armor into a soft looking tunic. Her hair stood up in every direction.

Matt took the position on the wall, where the guard had stood before, crossing his arms, an air of nonchalance around him. Shirogane reached for the jug and filling up one of the empty cups. The Galra used the silence to scrape up the last bite out of the bowl and wash everything down with another deep swallow from her own mug. Before putting it down and laying her hands down on the table, looking expectant.

The king regarded her for a moment. He finally asked the question he had been waiting to ask all night, hell, he had wanted to ask the moment the bird had fluttered into the dovecot up in the castle tower.

"We found her when she was ambushed by a group of Galra,“ Acxa said before he could even utter a loud.

"We—"

"You are Galra." Matt had his brows furrowed, puzzling over something. She threw him a look that clearly said, don't be an idiot.

"And?" she asked.

Matt blinked then shrugged. "Just wondering."

"We are not all the same."

"Maybe," Matt replied.

"Kids." The king interjected. They both looked at him before looking away again. Shirogane sighed. "So, you said we?"

Acxa nodded, her fingers, long with sharp-looking nails, not unlike claws, made a tok sound on the wood of the table. "My companion hung back to throw off our pursuers, who started to track and follow us three days ago. I apologize for the state your daughter is in, but we did not have much time."

The king shook his head. "There is no need to apologize. But tell me, don't you fear for your companion?"

Acxa crooked her head to the side. "No." But her fingers were still making the tok tok sound.

Shirogane sighed. "Can you talk to Healer Lance about her arm, so he knows what he must do?"

She nodded. "I—"

There was a shift in the air. The constant sound of the raindrops against the windows ceased. Acxa looked outside and smiled.

Shouting rose outside again. She sprung up and was out the door before the other three could even react.

The king blinked after her. "Well, it seems, the surprises are not over yet."

Matt shook his head and smiled. He and the king followed her at a more leisurely pace.

When they stepped out into the courtyard, the stone dark and glistening from the rain, another rider was waiting. The flanks of their horse were heaving, white foam had formed around its mouth. It danced the same way Acxa's had, but not out of panic, but because it did not seem to believe that it was over. Acxa stood with her back to them, the reins of the horse in her hands, talking fast to the figure in the saddle. They sat tall on it like they were born to ride. Dark robes obscured the lines of their body, a big hood drawn over them made it impossible to see a face. They could hear words falling from the Galra's lips, but the language was unknown. Was it another Galra, and Acxa was trying to reassure them?

"Acxa," Shirogane called. She looked over, her face unreadable. But the rider went, for lack of a better word, rigid. The horse stopped, and for a second, while everything was frozen in between them, the king believed that the other rider would turn around and flee. Acxa sighed and turned back.

"Come down." The rider curled inwards, and hopped down on the other side, giving over the reins to an already present stable boy. The horse left. There was nothing between them now. For a second, the king had a flashback to a long lost time, to an entirely different person, but that would be impossible.

But the hood slipped back and a woven pattern of braids and gold tumbled out, glinting in the light of flickering torches. Then the king saw the deep dark eyes, it was impossible to make out the color at this distance and with the seedy light. Shirogane let his gaze wander over sharp cheekbones and a too thin mouth. A mouth he knew too well. A face he knew too well. It belonged to the person he had least expected to see here today, if ever again.

"Keith?" He croaked, very unkingly.

"Hello, Shiro."


	2. You and Me

When Keith woke, it took him a moment to orient himself.

The light was falling at a weird angle, not just as a slither through a closed door. The world around him was dark grey and stone, not the soft tones of the wooden cabin he called his own. And the bed was too soft. Keith‘s neck and back hurt from sinking in too deep. He carefully fought himself out of the mass of feathers and bedding to sit up. He blinked into the light that fell freely through the open curtains. Since when did he have some?

Bit by bit, slow and sluggish, the memories returned. The chase through the night and day, the second ambush, fighting them off, appearing in the castle, right in front of Shiro, no King Takashi Shirogane of the United Kingdom.

Keith scrubbed at his face like he wanted to scratch the memories away. Still, they stayed, those deep grey eyes open in disbelieve, that magnificent body, vast and imposing, regal, wound tight with sudden tension. Keith was so close to running away. Had it not been for Acxa, he might have. She had clasped his shoulder and introduced him. A ruse. Because she knew. Acxa knew everything. He and her had traveled together long enough, that all the secrets between them had shrunk and withered away.

Keith had enough presence of mind to bow his head, deep enough without appearing disrespectful. All the words had died on the king's tongue when Keith had swayed and nearly crashed. After that, it was all business, and he was shuffled to one of the rooms by a steward whose name he had already forgotten again.

Then he had fallen in an exhausted dreamless sleep.

He re-centered himself. Belly deep breath, in and out. _Focus_, Kolivan would say. _Focus, compartmentalize. Keep what you need and stow everything else away, until it is useful again, if not, forget it._ Keith sighed and felt himself returning.

He stood, stretched, and walked over to the window. The sun had already crossed the line over the mountains, the courtyard was busy, a sense of nostalgia swept through him, Keith pushed it down again and made himself presentable enough. He blinked at his packs, Acxa must have brought them up. He found what he needed, a change of clothes and a new robe but left everything packed. He had no intention of staying long.

The moment he set foot outside, a guard snapped to attention. Keith paid him no mind and started walking. His feet found the familiar path, and it made him curse inside. He had hoped he would had forgotten more. The guard scrambled after him.

"Where are you going?" Keith looked over to him. The guard was the same built as Keith, all creamy skin and brown eyes, with freckles peppered over it. Keith shook his head. "Answer me."

"Kitchen," Keith grunted.

"I will show you the way."

"No need," Keith answered before he turned into the next hallway. Everything was still the same. Or was it? The guard followed. "Don't you have something more important to do?"

"The King said, not to let you out of sight," said the guard.

That… Keith was not sure what that was. It made him blink, but he kept his pace. Another tidbit to shove out of his mind into one of the many overflowing boxes of things he wanted to forget. The rest of the walk was silent.

When Keith crossed the entry room before the kitchen, the place where the dishes were usually kept before being brought outinto the great hall all at once, he found Acxa sitting at one of the long tables eating. He blinked at her before he shook his head. She smiled, amused at him.

"Sleep fine?" Acxa asked innocently.

He scowled at her, but before he could say anything, a matron bustled in, putting a bowl of steaming porridge before him, topped with honey and roasted nuts, as well as a cup of the potent herbal tea they cultivated in this region. It was the flavor of a long-forgotten home. Noise filtered through the open kitchen door. The panging of pots and cupboards, the running of feet, the shout of the head cook. It was so different from their tribe, where everything was done efficiently and silently. They ate in silence, Acxa sipped her tea, and the guard watched them.

"Where is your guard?"

Acxa shrugged. "Lost them somewhere."

Keith rolled his eyes.

"So, when are we leaving," she asked softly.

"When we have finished eating, we will get supplies, ready the horses, and go."

"You don't want to check in with the princess, see how she is doing?" Acxa raised an eyebrow at him.

"Do you?" He returned the question.

"I might."

Keith Squinted at her and was about to say something when the door to the chamber opened, and the queen strode in. She was the living and breathing picture of whom Keith had puzzled together from various sources. He knew her image, that of when she had still been the crown princess of Altea. It hung in one of the lesser-used wings. He also knew the king had married said crown princess and still was, so this was by deduction Queen Allura of the United Kingdom. The guard snapped to attention, nearly toppling over. Keith hid a smirk behind his cup.

"At ease, James," she said, her voice was melodic but commanding. Someone who was accustomed to being in charge. Acxa and Keith rose, before bowing briefly. Allura acknowledged it with a nod. "Please sit." She waved a hand at the table, before walking over and sitting down herself. The matron appeared again, a fresh cup in her hand, she curtsied and hurried than away. "I must apologize for the informality of this meeting." Allure took the cup in both hands as if to warm them. Keith look closer, the queen looked tired, a faint smudge under her eyes, her hair, while it was neat, still did looked hastily done. Her garments were slightly rumbled. She must have stayed awake through the night.

"We understand," Keith murmured.

"Still, it is not good enough. You brought back our daughter. You saved her, twice. We are indebted to you."

Keith shrugged uncomfortably. He had only done what had been right. But the queen was not finished. "So please, tell me, how can we reward you both."

"With nothing my Queen, well, maybe provisions so that we can be on our way again."

Allura furrowed her brows. "You want to leave so soon?" She studied them. No, she studied him. There was a slight downturn to her mouth. It made Keith wary.

"We have a home to get back too."

"Can't you rest for a few days?"

"Why do you insist?" Acxa asked, with a suspicious note to it. 

"Because we want to thank you," she said with easy nonchalance. "Please let us have this. Let us start repaying the debt we owe, even if this is not much."

Keith licked his lips and looked over to Acxa. The truth was, they had time. They had been on a scouting mission when they ran into the group of Galra. Kolivan wanted to know what the witch was up to. The Galra had never before raided the Garrison border installments or chased like this after someone. Maybe, there were answers to be found here. Acxa gave him the tiniest of nods.

"If this is your wish, we gratefully accept." Keith bowed his head.

Allura smiled at them, more open. "Be our guests then. Explore the grounds, walk the gardens, or search through the library. The guards will steer you away from any place you are not welcome." She stood. "I'm sure you want to check up on Aurora. James will lead the way when you have finished." She inclined her head and swept out of the room again.

Keith and Acxa looked after her before looking at each other.

"You sure about this?" She asked him after a minute of silence.

"No."

Keith was unsure what they would find behind the door to the rooms of the princess. He hoped it would not be the king. He was prepared to stay out of sight of that man for their entire stay.

A drawled "Yes" made Acxa open the door, and they stepped in. The sun was high and bright in the room. Keith's eyes wandered immediately to the pale figure on the bed. Aurora had her eyes open and was watching them with a small smile.

"There you are." She croaked and struggled to sit up. The lanky figure of a young man was helping her before they could step any closer.

"Easy."

"Yes, yes," Aurora said, waving him away. She turned to them again. "Mother said, I should thank you properly. For the moment, please, accept my words of gratitude."

Acxa snorted, and Keith chuckled. "Thoseare some polished words."

"Oh, you." She poked out her tongue at them. Aurora waved to the figure on the other side of the bed, still hovering. "Shall I present Healer Lance." The healer looked up and stopped, Keith swore, he had run into the other man all those years back a few times, before...Keith swallowed. 

"Mullet, that you?" Lance‘s eyes were huge.

Of all the places in this damn universe. Keith scowled.

"Mullet?" Acxa asked.

"Not my name."

"I learn so many new things about you, Keith." Acxa chuckled.

"I knew it!" Came a shout from Lance. Keith closed his eyes with a groan.

"Keep it down." His eyes darted first to Aurora, who watched them with open curiosity and then to the man at his back, someone whose sight had made Keith‘s guard shuffle out again, long sandy blond hair and dark armor. He had leaned back against the wall, looking unassuming, and nonthreatening. He watched them intently out of the corner of his eyes.

"What made you crawl back?" Lance sneered at him.

"I neither crawled nor am I back."

"And yet here you are."

Keith stopped at the new voice. He closed his eyes for a second, steeling himself before he turned. The rain and the night had done him an injustice. The king was shining, strong and stoic, head held high. The eyes calm and measured, his long hair artfully pulled back, the crown gleaming in the sunlight. Keith hated him at that moment, deep and burning. _Compartmentalize_, a voice whispered, and another mental shove.

"Yes, that I am." Keith smirked, he saw a flinch in the king's eyes. It gave him some satisfaction. He turned back to the princess and bowed. "I will leave you to your father, I will come by again before we leave."

He turned back, before stepping up next to the King and past him. For a second, he was sure the king would make a grab for him. But Shiro held his hands at his side, not moving an inch.

Keith allowed himself to breathe again when he was a few steps down the hallway. He snorted. _Well, that went well._

* * *

Keith roamed. He just kept on putting one foot in front of the other. Slow, measured steps. Just breathing. There was nowhere particular he was aiming for, no destination, just him and the grounds and the gardens. 

It had been a beautiful garden all those years back, and now it was even more grand. Tamed and wild at the same time. Wildflowers swarmed with insects, a few birds called through the trees, and squirrels hopped through the branches. Keith felt at peace.

He walked further, down a small pathway, through an alley of statues, white marble painted in lush colors. He had always wondered how often they needed to be repainted. The path opened to a crypt. A dome-like round building, from the same stone as the statues, but not painted. Solemn, it stood. The other side fell down into a steep cliff. The crypt seemed to be overlooking the valley that lay below.

A few guards crossed his way, and while they all watched Keith with curious eyes, they let him pass. He walked into the building, welcoming the coolness of its shadows and its silence. His soft boots did not make any sound. The light was filtering through the small windows in the dome. As per custom, the sarcophagus of the late king and queen could be found in the middle of the building. On the outer ring rested all the others. After the current king and queen died, they will be laid to rest here while the previous ones would be shifted to the side, finding their final resting place.

Keith kneeled before them. Bowing his head to the cold stone and speaking his prayer. The old king had fallen in a battle against the Galra fifteen years ago. The queen had died of a broken heart shortly after. When news had reached the Marmoran encampment, Keith had been out on his first solo mission. When he had returned a month later, it had been old news. Still, Keith had grieved for the man who had taken him in. He had tried to write to the crown prince, but the words wouldn't come. All his attempts had ended in the fire pit of his small shack.

_Galra_, he thought. _Again, Galra._ It echoed in him, stroking over a long past. It was a word he very much wanted to forget. But that was not possible.

Keith shook his head and stood. He bowed a last time before he turned and walked back. Shielding his eyes with his arms, he blinked into the much brighter light. Something shifted next to him. Keith looked down. Big eyes behind glasses looked owlishly back at him. Keith closed his eyes and reopened them again. But the small figure beside him did not vanish.

"Can I help you?" He asked politely, he rather wanted to be alone.

"Tell me about your magic."

"Come again?"

"Your magic, tell me everything there is to know about your magic." She said much slower then as an afterthought. "You do have magic, or?" She looked him up and down, skeptical.

"Yes, no, what is it to you?" There was a blush creeping onto Keith‘s cheekbones. Who was that creature?

"I want to know!" She threw her hands in the air as if he even needed to ask.

"But why?" He pressed on.

"Because knowledge is the key to everything."

"Knowledge or death," Keith whispered, looking not at her.

She blinked. "What does that mean?"

"Nothing."

"But—"

"What is your name?"

"Pidge."

Keith chuckled. He looked her over, her face and the hair reminding him of someone. What should he tell her? There was no magic anymore in this world; he was the only one who could wield it. No, that was a lie, the witch was able enough. And there were still the druids. But they did not do magic. They felt the undercurrents of the world, the soft energies that lived in everything, and they used it, manipulated it, molded it. It needed years of training and practice. Keith just did what he needed to do.

Could hetell her that? Was it a secret? If so, was it his to keep? Could she do something with it, if she knew? Hurt someone? _No_, Keith thought, _she could not_. But still, she was a stranger, why should he talk to her?

There was something in her eyes, though. A hunger Keith knew too well, a yearning to strive, to walk a path no one could follow, a way of their own.

He nodded, which earned him a beaming smile.

They settled under a tree, ablaze with flowers. Keith let himself sink against the tree trunk, the bark pressing between his shoulder blades. Pidge settled opposite him.

"So, how does your magic feel?" She was thoughtful. "I mean, the head druid tried to explain to me what they are doing…"

"My magic, or whatever you want to call it is different than the druids. It feels like a force pressing into me, the druids use energy in life, although sometimes I feel like I'm the used one."

"A force?" Pidge murmured.

Keith shrugged, he had no better description for it.

"Maybe, maybe… a god?" But she scrunched up her face as she said that. Keith registered with some bemusement that Pidge did not believe in the otherworldly.

"I—"

"Keith."

They both looked over at the sudden voice. The head druid had approached them. His steps were silent on the gravel of the way that led up to the tree. Ulaz looked down at them, his near violet eyes, soft and old. Keith searched his face, searching for some passage of time, but Ulaz had looked the same since the day Keith had fled the kingdom. Keith stood and patted the dirt off of his robe. He smiled at Pidge. "I'm sorry, but I need to talk to him."

She studied him. "You are running away."

"Maybe." He smiled and walked over to Ulaz.

"I will get my answers," she shouted after him.

"She will be relentless," Ulaz murmured.

But Keith only shrugged, for some reason he was looking forward to it.

"How is Kolivan?" Ulaz asked the moment they had crossed the threshold into Ulaz' room, and Keith had closed the door behind him, right into the face of the guard who had followed him all day. Keith allowed himself a smirk.

"As always, he is grumpy." Keith crossed through the room and settled onto one of the seating cushions. On the low table between them, was already herbal tea steeping.

"Marmoran herbs?" He looked at the pot, surprised.

"Acxa gave them to me this morning, I dearly missed them." Ulaz poured himself a cup, breathing in the fragrance. "Not that you, my ungrateful student, was inclined to make a visit to this old man. Acxa mentioned that you had wanted to ride out in the morning."

Keith flushed. "I don't like this place."

"There was a time that was very different," Ulaz pointed out.

"That time is long in the past."

"I don't think so. Tell me, how was it to see the King again?" There was amusement in Ulaz’ eyes.

"Fuck you."

Ulaz only tutted.

Keith let his shoulders drop in defeat. "Any news from home?"

Ulaz shook his head. "Nothing interesting. Acxa sent a bird this morning, there might be something tomorrow or the day after."

Keith let his fingers tap on the table.

"You are restless, and it is not only because the castle and the king."

Keith shook his head. "I want to find them. We quelled two groups, but we need to find a way to stop them."

Ulaz shrugged. "We can't find them. They are shielded by the witch. Otherwise, our esteemed leader would be already marching on them."

"To his death." Keith spat.

"The same old argument," Ulaz said before he took a sip from the tea.

Keith looked away. "He thinks he can win the war like that, but we also know we will only lose again."

"You don't know that for certain."

"Come on, Ulaz, how many times have you killed Sendak in the last thousand years?" Keith asked hotly.

"A few." He said with a twinkle.

"There must be a different way, something must be done, or it will never end." Keith balled his hands to fists.

Ulaz took a swallow from the tea, before setting the cup down with care. "You are also aware that Kolivan has been searching for a solution all this time. We have not been sitting on our asses doing nothing. But we haven't even found a whisper."

"I know," Keith relented.

"But, you believe that we have overlooked something."

"I don't know," Keith shrugged.

"And that you will be the chosen one, who will find the means to do it?" Ulaz raised an eyebrow at him.

"I don't know," Keith repeated, slightly desperate. "I mean, I was born for a reason, mother was able to leave for a reason."

"You really think so?" Something lurked in the depth of Ulaz‘ eyes.

"_You_ taught me, the goddess has always a reason.”

"We are bound by her whim." Ulaz paused and crooked his head to the side. "But not you."

"You sure?" Keith studied him.

Ulaz was silent for a long moment. His eyes traced the cup and the jug in front of him, the table, but he did not see them. Ulaz had gone to a faraway place. To a distant memory. "The truth is," he began, "I don't know anymore. The last few years, just flow into each other, and I'm not sure anymore. What had happened, and what was just a dream, a very long dream. Maybe, everything is just a dream, a nightmare to be precise. One, we all want to end."

"You don't care how," Keith whispered.

"No, not anymore."

The King found him precisely one hour later. If Keith had been more aware of his surroundings, maybe he would have been able to escape it. But what Ulaz had told him still rattled him. They all did not care anymore, and who was he to judge them for it. It had been such a long time, Keith couldn't even begin to understand. When the figure settled next to him at the balustrade, he assumed for a second it was Acxa. But the shadow was too broad and high. The sudden double beat of his heart did not help.

"Hello, Keith."

Keith swallowed. "Your majesty."

Shiro answered with a humorless chuckle.

"It has been a long time."

Keith kept silent. He was never one for pleasantries, had never been, and the time with the Marmorans had not improved that.

"Why are you here?"

"To bring back your daughter," Keith answered truthfully.

"Why? You never returned before. You must have known who she was, and still you came?" Shiro inquired.

"Why should I have returned?" Keith asked back.

"Your life had been here, your family."

"My family is dead." Which was a lie and not, his father had died. His mother, he had found out, was very much alive. But he had no inclination to share that with the man beside him.

"And me?" The king murmured.

"You?" Keith blinked. "You?!"

"Keith—"

"Fuck this." Keith turned and walked away.

"Keith!" Shiro shouted, but Keith dipped into the hallway, and into the next and the next, as fast as he could. His soft boots making no sound.

How dare he?


	3. Burn the World

Crown prince Takashi Shirogane watched his life crumble and crack away with a few well-placed words on a sunny day in late spring. Just minutes before he had basked in the sunshine, that had broken through the endless rain clouds of the past few days. A gentle breeze had drifted through the trees, around insects that lazily buzzed around. The summer trees had started to bloom. Shiro had breathed in, a giddy feeling in his heart, a promise in his soul he was eager to keep.

But now, after receivinga message, better given on a stormy and cold winter night, Shiro felt cold and alone.

"Is there no other way?" He asked his father, not caring that his tone was pleading. When his father had knocked, Shiro had stood at the open window, but now he was blindly groping for his desk chair, sinking down into it. A small tremble started at the base of his spine, working its way upward. Something churned in the pit of his stomach.

His father had paused, those grey eyes like Shiro‘s own had not been quite sad but apologetic. His black hair was streaked with white under the golden crown. The gold flickered in the sun that wandered in thick rays through the room. "I mean, I—"

"I'm sorry, son. The lineage needs security. This is the duty we have to our people."

"But—"

"Shiro. Takashi. The people have already endured one tyranny in the past, because there had been no legitimate heir at the time. They have a right to demand the safety and continuity we promised them." The king swallowed. "I will leave you to it. We will make the marriage announcement in three days."

After his father left, all that could Shiro do was sit at his desk and let the rest of the day turn into night. Hoping, when he lay down to sleep, he would wake from this sudden nightmare. But sleep eluded him.

At the beginning of dawn, when the night sky turned dark blue, then grey flittered over the horizon, another knock sounded on his door. One Shiro had hoped for and equally dreaded. The door was slowly pushed open, and there on the threshold, standing with a sheepish smile and tired eyes, stood his childhood friend. His brother in crime, his best friend, and also the boy he was deeply in love with.

His name was Keith Kogane.

Keith shuffled inside, closing the door behind him before he crept forward. "Did I wake you?" Keith asked as he walked closer to the bed before crawling inside of it. He was still in his travel robes, and Shiro wrinkled his nose at the onslaught of dust and dirt.

"No, I couldn't sleep." He smiled at the boy, who was already sinking deeper into the cushions. Eyes closing before they popped open again at his remark. Keith studied him for a moment before he rolled on his arm, propping his head up.

"Miss me that much?" A smirk played along Keith‘s lips.

Shiro draped his body over him, pinning him down with his whole body before kissing him. "Yeah."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

Shiro could still not believe it. This, what they shared. It had been a kind of recent development and not. Not the love, which had been there for a very long time. Shiro had fallen for this small boy with his permanent scowl and awkward moments a long time ago. No, the kissing, that had been new.

Shiro had always imagined that earth-shattering developments in life happen on remarkable days or following outstanding events. But their first kiss had been brief and short and had just been in the spur of the moment. Shiro did not even remember the exact date; he had been distracted, between the harvest reports and the new season preparations. Keith had packed to go on yet another tour with the head druid of the castle. Keith had been Ulaz‘ right hand for quite some time and always accompanied his master whenever he traveled. On this day, just before Keith had swung himself up on his horse, Shiro had caught his arm and kissed him. There was no thought about it, he had just let his body guide him.

"Please be careful."

And Keith had only smiled while he touched his own lips. The shout from the head druid had sprung them apart and into action. With a last peck to his cheek, Keith had walked away, his cheeks a deep red. Shiro had finally registered what he had done late in the day. The following two weeks had been excruciating. Wallowing, from self-pity to despair to giddiness. But when Keith had returned, a broad smile splitting his face nearly in two when he had spotted Shiro in the welcoming crowd, his heart had settled.

"What’s on your mind?" Keith's gaze was soft. His whole being emitting an aura of being sated and content. Shiro captured the hand that had been drawing lazy circles on his bare chest, shivering slightly in the cool breeze that drifted in through the open window.

"I—" The words stuck in his throat. He wanted to get them out, desperately, they clawed at him, but he could not speak them. "Nothing, just council stuff."

Keith chuckled, stretching beside him. "Those old geezers will be the death of you."

“Yeah." He smiled and closed his eyes to hide the sadness in them. "Yeah, they will be."

Three days later, the delegation from Altea arrived. The crown princess Allura of Altea, with her personal aide, and a handful of guards. The king and queen had raised their eyebrows at the lack of entourage, but Allura had assured them that this was all she needed; her luggage would be coming later. Shiro welcomed her.

They walked the garden together, murmuring. Her aide only a few steps behind.

When he returned that day to his chambers, Keith was already waiting. He stood at the window, the big one that overlooked the courtyard and the gardens beyond. Dread settled into Shiro’s stomach. He had forgotten, he had plain forgotten. The whole castle was abuzz with the preparations for the impending wedding, people were talking about the lovely and stunning pair.

"Since when?" His voice was coarse, breaking at the end. Shiro stepped closer, but Keith's whole body went rigid.

Shiro licked his lips. "The day before you returned." He could see Keith making a fist, a tremor running from the wrist up to his arm before everything went still again.

"You could have told me." A statement, not a question.

"I—"

"You could have told me." Keith finally turned, his eyes ablaze, something trembled and Shiro was not sure if it was himself or the world.

"Yes."

Keith closed his eyes and let his head sink, he raised his hands to look at them. "And I foolishly believed that…" He stopped. "I have no clue anymore what I believed." He whispered.

"Keith—" Shiro stepped closer, he wanted to comfort the other boy. He knew he had fucked up, spectacularly, but maybe he would be able to explain himself. "I—"

"Stop." Keith‘s voice was flat, devoid of any strong emotion. His face was blank, but his eyes, oh how they burned, deep and endless. Shiro stopped, standing awkwardly in the middle of the room. "Don't follow me," Keith said before walking in a wide arch around him (that hurt even more), before slipping out through the door. The closing rattle final and desolate.

"Your highness?" Ulaz, the head druid blinked at him out of his nearly violet eyes. He looked surprised at his late-night visitor. Shiro was not even sure why he had come.

"I'm sorry to disturb you at this late hour." He gripped his own hands behind his back, to stave off any tremble. "May I talk to Keith?"

Ulaz studied him for a moment. It was unnerving, Shiro always had the feeling that Ulaz was seeing more than he was letting on. Well, he was the head druid, so he should know more, but still, it was unnerving. As if Ulaz saw on a different plane. When his eyes became vacant, it felt as if he not was miles, but eons away.

"He is already asleep."

Shiro's shoulders dropped. "I see, maybe I will catch him tomorrow."

"This might be." Shiro nodded and was about to turn around. "Your highness." Shiro stopped and looked back. "Maybe you should think about the exact words you want to tell him." Shiro nodded again, walking down the dark hallway, feeling Ulaz' burning eyes all the way down.

But he did not catch Keith the next day or the day after, or the day after. The castle was bustling with people, it was easy to slip away and go undetected. Shiro walked a few more times with the princess at his arm. His mind far away.

"Are you alright?" Allies asked him. It had startled Shiro.

"Yes, just a lot on my mind, I'm sorry to have concerned you."

On the fourth day, deep in the evening, Shiro again made his way over to the druid wing, hoping to find Keith there, or at least ask Ulaz for a clue where to find him.

"There you are again." Ulaz smiled at him, but his gaze was reserved.

"He is not here," Shiro said in deduction. Ulaz looked torn.

"He is, but he is already asleep."

Shiro sighed. "Is he really?"

"Yes, your highness. He is."

"Oh well, I will try again in the morning," Shiro sighed again, already turning away.

"That may not be possible," Ulaz said apologetic.

"What, why?" Shiro drew his brows together.

"Keith will be leaving before first light." Shiro blinked at him. "It is time for his journey, to our sacred grounds, and to learn from different people."

"How long will that take?"

Ulaz' shrugged in an easy shoulder roll. "Probably a few years."

"Years." There was a twitch in Shiro‘s right eye.

"Maybe he will never return." There was a challenge in those words.

Stillness, an absolute stillness that was what Takashi Shirogane felt at that moment. "I can catch him before he rides."

"Did you forget your own duties?" Ulaz pointed out.

Had the earth stopped?

Shiro was about to ride to the temple in a few hours, the ritual washing before the wedding in two days.

"Are you willing to take a message to him?" Shiro was grabbing for something.

Where was that white noise coming from?

"It would be my pleasure, your highness."

* * *

Keith Kogane was waking from a dream, a long and beautiful one. One, in which he was loved and had a place. Maybe even a destiny. He was awake now. Woken to a world with a rather harsh and unforgiving light. As Keith stood in the pre-dawn light, blinking around his small room, he took everything from the last days, every emotion, every twinge of his memory, and put into a box, locking it tight. His small pack slung over his shoulders; he felt like a ghost wandering through silent halls. Soon the castle would wake, be busy again, preparing for—He swallowed, another thought to shove into the box, deep and deeper.

The guards nodded to him, their eyes squinting.

He would ride soon and leave the dream behind.

Soon.

Just a few more steps.

"Ah, Kogane."

Keith looked up at the voice, he patted his horse on the neck and turned. Ulaz stood in the stable door, his eyes on him, kindness in his gaze. "Leaving without saying goodbye?"

"I'm not good at goodbyes." Keith said with a shrug, but a smile tugged at his lips.

"You and me both." Ulaz came slowly closer. "Normally, I would not have bothered, but I've got something for you." He took a small parcel from out of the deep folds in his robe and pressed it into his hands.

Keith raised an eyebrow. His master had never given him any gifts, at least he had never called them that. A robe here, writing paper and quill there, practical things.

Ulaz, as if he was reading his thoughts (and maybe he was, Keith, was never really sure), chuckled. "Don't be too excited, it is not from me."

"Then, who’s?" Keith blinked, who would bestow him with a farewell gift? Well, one person came to his mind, but no, that was another thought left alone.

"Open it and find out."

Keith turned it a few times over, the crackling brown paper not giving anything away. He sighed and put it into his duffel bag. He needed to ride. Keith straightened up and looked at Ulaz.

"Thank you, master, I'm grateful for all you have taught me." For giving me a place, a purpose.

"Just go." Ulaz smiled. "And don't come back until you are ready." There was a new glint in his eyes. Ulaz had always looked at him as if he, Keith, was a particular puzzle he could solve. Someone with a different power than any druid had ever possessed. Keith had an inkling where it was coming from, but he would ride to the place Ulaz had told him about to find the truth.

Keith nodded and took his horse, Red, by the reins to lead her out. When he crossed the front part of the stable, he found the box of Arctus, the horse of the crown prince, empty. He swallowed but kept moving.

The night was cold and crisp, the summer still not really taking hold. Keith swung himself up, and after taking another deep breath, he nudged Red into a slow trot. Leaving first the castle, and then the surrounding city behind. Out of sight, he let Red run free, falling into an easy gallop. They flew through the countryside, while the sky changed slowly color, bursting first in fire red above the horizon before changing to a more muted blue, spilling over the expansive sky. The world around Keith woke. Watching the distance grow between him and the city and watching the landscape change, he felt free.

When the first tendrils of the oncoming night cast their shadows over the sky, Keith made camp, the first of many to come, until he found the Marmorans and his destiny. But right here, he erected the shield circle to keep anyone or anything with bad intentions away. He did the same for his horse, which he had tied to a nearby tree. He invoked a small fire, cooking some grains with water from a stream just a few steps away.

While Keith reached for the map in the saddlebags, his fingers closed around the small parcel. He had put it out his mind for the whole day. Now he blinked at it, rattling it slightly. Something little made a sound in the box. Keith turned it around and around again, but there was no name or message on the outside. He hesitated before he pulled the strings open, Ulaz would never give him something harmful, he was sure.

In the end, there was only way to find out. He needed to open it.

In between the crumpled paper, he found a small box. It was made of slightly reddish wood. Keith knew the wood. It was of one of the apple trees from the garden that had been taken down a few years back. The box was rather plain, but perfect. The different parts masterfully crafted and perfectly slotted together. Keith opened the box and and paused.Never in his wildest dreams would Keith ever think that he _could_ receive it, a heavy silver ring, with two swords, crossed in front of a roaring lion, the crest of the kingdom. This was a signet ring, by the state of discoloration and scratches on it, it had been heavily used.

The longer Keith looked atit, the larger the tremble became in his hands, it got so bad, that he set the box down to the ground, willing the tremors to subside. It took a large number of deep breaths to get himself under control again.

Keith picked the box up again, marveling at the smoothness and seamless fit of the parts. At the second look, he also saw the missive nestled under the ring, the same width and height of the box itself. He carefully scooped it out. After unfolding, he recognized the handwriting, one he knew dearly. His gaze wandered to the fire. It would be just a small toss, a short flick with his hand, and the words would be erased forever.

He dared a glance. His eyes roaming wildly over the small rows and neat writing. Always so elegant. Keith did not want to catch words, but still he read "beloved", "never doubt", "one day", "please". "Shiro".

He looked down at the ring in the box, glinting slightly in the fire shine.

Keith read.

_Dear beloved,_

_I have lost the right to call you that, and, I'm sure, to even think of you like that. I lost every right to call on your affection for me. But while I misjudged the situation and took the easy way out in the end, I beg you to never have any doubt about my feelings concerning you. I loved you, no, I love you. You have been everything to me. But I was greedy and selfish. I did not want to break the spell that had befallen us, and in the end, I broke us. For that, I will never be able to apologize._

_I send you my signet ring, because, if I had been able to, I would have given you the kingdom._

_I hope, one day, you will find it in your heart to forgive me._

_Please be well,_

_Forever yours,_

_Shiro._

"I never wanted a kingdom." Keith whispered, before burning the letter. He clutched the ring between his hands and allowed himself this one time to cry. He cried for something he could never have again, a future he barely caught a glimpse of. The loss of a dream that had just been too perfect to last. After he was spent and exhausted, he rolled himself into his thin bedroll and fell into an uneasy sleep.

The next day Keith crossed the border. He would not return for nearly nineteen years.

* * *

* * *

"I found maps."

Keith blinked at the small girl, Pidge, he remembered. Keith had drifted along these last few days in peace. He had sidestepped all people that could have wanted something from him, which meant _all_ the people, even Acxa. Only Pidge was able to find him even in the oddest of places. On questioning that, she only said that sometimes a good hiding place was the greatest freedom in the world. And Keith understood. She had tormented him with endless questions, but he found himself not minding much. For the first time, Keith met someone who really was just that curious about everything they didn't know. Maybe, if he had stayed, all those years back, they could have become friends.

"You found maps," he echoed while trying to find out why Pidge would tell him that.

"Yes, I found maps," she confirmed, in her "You are slow" voice.

"Pidge," Keith sighed.

She crossed her arms and made a loud sound that was a mix between snarl and a sigh. Her hair stood up in every direction, and her glasses were slightly askew. Pidge must have slept in her clothes the last night, or, more likely, she had not slept at all.

"Did you sleep?" Keith still asked.

"Sleep?" Pidge blinked as if she was thinking about the question, trying to find meaning in it.

"Yes, you know the thing humans do, sleeping, getting rest, closing the eyes, and just let time shift a few hours, normally done at night when it is dark outside?"

Pidge rolled her eyes. "Sleep is for the weak."

"At least eaten?" As if it had waited for that, her stomach growled like a small bobcat. "That seems to be a no. Okay, you can tell me all about the maps in the library after you have eaten."

She gnawed at her lip for a moment, gauging Keith’s sincerity. Still, after another growl that was slightly evolving into a full-blown lion, she nodded. A small victory he surely would regret.

Keith came into the library laden with porridge with heaps of honey and toasted nuts on it and bits of apple. He also brought a jug of strong tea and some milk to soften the bitterness. Pidge made grabby motions for the bowl, as soon as he set the things down in front of her. She tried to speak to him with her mouth full, but after she nearly choked, Pidge realigned her priorities.

After everything was cleared and she took the last swallow of the tea, she stood up and bounced away. There was a faint rustling and a small curse, before she came back, her arms laden with papers. Pidge spread one of them on the big table, nearly throwing the bowl and jug to the ground, Keith saved them from the devastating fate and put them on the floor.

Keith strained himself and let his eyes trace over what she had brought. He saw lines and scribbles, small houses and mountain lines. A map indeed, a very old one. It looked familiar and still off. There was no castle, only a large forest, a lake where most of the forest was today, and settlements marked down, where today was nothing. Small houses and strange symbols that called to Keith. The longer he stared onto them, the more they came to him. His fingers traced them of their own volition.

"Vuka." He murmured. It was a dot with three houses, along a long faded brown line that may have been a road or trade route. Something twisted inside Keith. This map was magic. "Marron." It lay deeper in the forest along with a southern mountain range. "Nalexa."

He looked up, Pidge watched him, astonished. "You can read them." It was a statement. The solidification of a theory. "You can read them." She cackled with glee.

"How did you—"

She pointed to his blade, which was as always fixed at his hip. Keith never thought about it, it was just there. "Aurora asked me about the strange symbols on it." He never knew the princess had seen them. "And you came with Acxa, so I just drew a conclusion." She puffed up her chest. "So, what are you? Why do you look different?"

"Is this why you showed me the maps?"Keith asked in hopes of distracting her.

"What? No, no." She half-turned back to them, unrolling another one, on top over the other. "Here, look". The paper was flimsy, nearly translucent. Both maps overlapped, they did not match completely, the scale was off. But it was clear enough what Pidge wanted to show him.

They both showed the same area, this area, as Keith had already seen on the first map.

"The other map is older, way older." Pidge said excitedly.

"How old?" He studied it, he knew how old the map could be. But Keith still hoped after all this time, that he could still escape the truth. Not quite ready to face it yet.

But Pidge only shrugged. "Not sure, but it is not even the best part."

"No?"

She rolled up the one from the kingdom again, before pointing to a spot in the mountain range to the west. One he had missed before. It was rather impressive, while all the other places had small houses to mark the settlements, this had a pyramid shape with long thin spires. Keith studied it. "It has no name." He frowned for a second, a tickle at his back. "What is it?"

"I found old texts, copies from even older texts and some references, about an old place of worship the Galra once called their own. They called upon it through blood sacrifices, and in exchange, received gifts and favors."

"You think it is real?" Another tickle in Keith’s mind.

"Yes." But Pidge was deep in thought, a small frown between her brows.

"You want to go there," Keith stated.

"Yes." She nearly hissed. There was a fever glean in her eye. The small body was strung tight, ready for him to argue against it. Again that tickle in his mind, a near whisper.

"Why? What do you wish to find?"

"Answers." She looked straight at him. "Help me."

Keith had the feeling he should not leave here. The Galra had chased Aurora once. Who would protect the city, protect _her_ if they came again. "I—"

"I will send for Kolivan."

They both startled at the new voice, turning to the new figure in the room. Acxa stood in the open door, her face grim.

"You think…?" Keith looked down at the temple picture. His fingers tracing its shape over and over again.

-_aladin_. Something whispered, he shivered.

"Maybe." Acxa came closer, throwing a glance at the map. Her fingers came to rest near a small settlement in the south. A splinter of sadness slithered through her eyes.

"You think he will head the call?" Keith frowned at his companion.

"Who is Kolivan?" Pidge interjected.

"My mentor," Acxa said with ease.

"Why should he come?" Pidge crossed her arms, crooking her head slightly, she had found a new puzzle.

Acxa regarded her with some amusement. "Because Keith fears for the kingdom."

Pidge looked over at him, but Keith ducked his head. Acxa as always had figured him out. She had probably felt it. He had done magic, covered the path he was walking every day in runes and words, building layer after layer to shield them from the worst, should the witch ever come herself.

_She will._

Had that been his thought?

"You could always go yourself," Keith said instead. But Acxa shook her head.

"You and I know, I will not be able to enter."

"Why is that?" Pidge asked again.

But both Keith and Acxa kept silent until Pidge just rolled her eyes and muttered something about "Ancient cultures and their secrets."

"The king will let you go?" Acxa asked pointedly.

"Maybe, maybe not."

"Good thing that I will be leaving now." Acxa smirked at him.

Keith shook his head smiling. "Stay safe, sister."

"And you, brother." She threw a last wistful look at the map before she slipped out.

_Come._

* * *

"I will not allow it."

Getting an appointment with the king had been easy, presenting their case, as well. Keith would have just ridden out, but Pidge was under his command, so they needed to go the official route.

"You will not allow it," Keith repeated in a very calm voice. Allura, who sat by the fire reading, closed her book and looked over.

"No," Shiro confirmed.

"Good thing that I did not ask for your permission." Keith slouched back in the chair, while the other three came to a stop. Pidge especially was throwing him a surprised look.

"I'm your king." Shiro‘s grey eyes turned to steel.

"No, you are not."

"Keith, maybe—" But Keith ignored her, catapulting himself out of his seat and leaning heavily on the desk between him and the king.

"I'm not one of your subjects. I answer to only one person, and you are not it." With that, he turned and marched right out of the room, throwing the door closed behind him.

"My king—" Pidge tried, but stopped again, when a hand wormed itself around her arm, squeezing softly. She looked up at the shaking head of her queen. Allura‘s lips formed the word "Go." Pidge did not argue and was out of the chair and in a flash.

* * *

Pidge caught up with him a few hallways down. "Keith!"

He whirled around. "What do you want?!"

"I—just." She paused. "Fuck you."

Keith scrubbed his hands over his face, deflating. "I'm sorry. It's just, he does not command me." He never had.

Pidge studied him for a moment but nodded. "Okay, but what will we do now?"

He shrugged, looking slightly to her left, out the window. "I will go."

"But…"

"As I said, I'm not one of his subjects. And this, maybe this will be able to help us. I will ride at first light."

* * *

The sun had barely lifted over the horizon when Keith commanded the guards to open the gate doors, followed by Pidge. None of the guards help them back. Even Matt, who was watching the procession with a frown on his face did not intervene.

The same frown was mirrored by the king. Shiro had his hand pressed to the glass of the window, the cold of the night seeping into the flesh. Allura joined him at his side. They followed the specs of the riders flying out of the city, before they turned east, getting smaller and smaller. Until they could only imagine them moving to the tree line of the eastern forest and vanishing into the darkness there.

"They went," the king said unnecessarily.

"Yes, they did." Allura watched him. "Did you talk to him before he left?"

"No."

"You are an idiot, Shiro."

He flinched at that. But let his shoulders and the hand drop. "I know, I… I don't know why I'm doing this."

"You worry." Shiro looked at her. "You worry about him. And you fear. You fear him. You want him to obey you, to follow you, only you. As if you were his sun, the same sun he surely once was for you."

"Allura—" Shiro swallowed.

"I know. But he runs from that, as you have seen. And if I may say, rightly so. This is not the basis for any relationship." There lurked something cold and bitter in her eyes, but also understanding. Shiro never quite understood the relationship they had. "Keith is gone for the moment. But if the gods permit, he will return, take the time to think about what you want, and maybe than you both can be happy, we all can be happy then."

Shiro blinked at her. Did she—

"Allura—" He tried again, but a knock interrupted them. He closed his eyes as Allura turned around. There was suddenly a wall between them, one Shiro had never felt before. Sure, they had never been _in_ love, but they had been comfortable around each other, companions, friends. They trusted each other. But now, there was something else, a rift had formed. Or had it always been there? Scraping away over the years on the layers above, until there was nothing left to scrap, and now the rift lay out in the open, widening with every passing moment.

He wanted to say anything, to understand what was going on, but he did not find the strength or the will inside him. Instead, Shiro called to the door with a "Yes."

Matt stood in the opened door, he was apologetic, but grim. "I'm sorry to disturb your majesties."

"What is it, Matt?" Shiro just wanted the day to be over already.

"Have you seen your daughter?"

_Come, my paladin._


	4. The Mountain in Us

They were already deep into the eastern woods when Keith raised his hand to indicate that they needed to stop. Pidge sidled her horse up to his, but before she could open her mouth to inquire about what was going on, Keith made a cutting motion. He closed his eyes, listening. Pidge was curious and tried to follow what he was doing, opening herself up. Listening. Beyond her own breath and the creaking of the leather, the sound of the horses, the rustling of the wind in the trees, the song of the birds, the buzzing of insects. There was nothing more. Or was there? Right before she wanted to give up, she could faintly hear it, in the distance, another horse, maybe more. Someone was coming.

Keith sat down and made a hand wave at her to follow him. They led their animals into the undergrowth as fast as possible, binding them to a tree. Pidge saw the tense lines of his back, a grim look on his face.

"How many?" She whispered, grabbing for her daggers. While she was not experienced, she was at least trained. Her brother had seen to it.

Keith closed his eyes for a short moment. "Just one."

Pidge nodded and followed him closely to the tree line, just before they would break out into the open. Keith readied his sword, not the small blade, she noted and got into position. She saw him watching her for a moment, and while Pidge surely did not look like it, her brother Matt _was_ the captain of the king's guard and had trained her to fight. Keith must have seen something in her eyes because he only nodded and concentrated than on their oncoming guest.

They waited.

Pidge's heart rate picked up with every movement of the sun across the horizon. _This_ was an adventure. This was potentially dangerous. And she loved every second of it. The noise got louder, she fancied herself being able to tell that it indeed was only one lone rider. A breeze touched her hair, a bird, or another animal crashed through the canopy, and the rider appeared.

The horse was a beautiful chestnut brown stallion, his coat glinting in the sun. The rider was rather small, a thick braid out of white hair swaying from side to side. Pidge needed to double-check if she saw correctly. Before Keith could even react, she was out of their hiding place jumping in front of the rider, who barely had time to reel the horse in.

The horse shied as it came to a stop, the flanks heaving, white foam at the snout. It danced on his legs, still spooked. The rider tried to calm it down with gentle words.

A noise from the underbrush, made Pidge aware that Keith was coming, he looked first confused, and then as he spotted the rider, it dawned on him.

Princess Aurora smiled sheepishly down at them.

"Why?" Keith finally asked.

The three of them had made camp, to re-group as Keith had called it.

Aurora shrugged, and then shook her head. "Because, I did not want to be left out."

Keith sighed, rather forcefully. "How did you even find out about it?"

"The castle has eyes and ears and you people were talking awfully loud." A mischievous twinkle in her eyes.

"Keith?" Pidge asked.

"We can't escort you back, and otherwise, I fear you would just keep following us."

"Maybe," Aurora mouthed.

"And we also parted without direct permission, we don't hold any favor at the moment."

"My father is not that petty," Aurora said with a raised eyebrow.

"Just don't get in the way." Keith relented.

"That is all?" The princess looked at him surprised.

"There should be more?" Keith said with a wry twist to his mouth.

"I—"

"You are free to return." He pointed in the general direction of the castle. But Aurora shook her head. "Take rest now, we already lost half a day, we will set out early."

* * *

"Master Keith?"

Keith blinked, while Pidge sitting to his right at the campfire, snorted. He threw her an eye-roll before he looked over at Aurora.

"I'm no master, your highness."

Aurora puckered her lips. "I'm no highness, not yet crowned."

"One day, you will be," Keith pointed out.

"It is not something I want."

"But regardless, it will happen." He gently interjected. He scratched his neck, where a delicate silver chain rested.

"A path that was chosen for me, one I can't diverge from."

"So, it will be." Keith said with an air of finality.

"Like you and my father." She shot back.

Keith threw her a sharp look. "I don't know what you think you know, but that is a topic between the king and me." He stood. "Pidge, wake me for the second watch. The circle I drew will hold, but I don't want to take any chances." He nodded in Aurora's direction. "Your highness."

"I think I angered him." He heard Aurora say softly.

"Yes, you did." Came Pidges reply.

He settled into this bedroll and willed himself to sleep.

The morning was as awkward as was to be expected. Keith looked grim and squinted into the swirling mist. It was just morning fog rising from the land, he suspected it would break soon. His eyes lingered for a moment on Aurora, his tongue already on the verge of saying something. Still, Keith swallowed it down and readied his horse.

They rode in silence. While Keith had lived a significant portion of his life in what was called the United Kingdom, he had never ventured this far north-east into the Blue Mountain range. As a kid, he had often wondered what laid there. He dreamt of magical creatures, like dragons and snow trolls. His father, and later Ulaz had chuckled at his constant questions and wonder for the world. He now knew, while there were many strange things and wondrous happenings, dragons and snow trolls were a myth, and the mountain range was just that, a landscape made out of stone and dirt, older than time itself.

Their path, not more than a small line, with death waiting on one side and solid stone mountain up on the other, was slowly winding up. The green of the forest was sprawling below them, lush and endless. Flocks of birds broke through the canopy, turning and dancing before they settled down again. From time to time, a loud crash drifted up to them. Maybe a bear, perhaps something different. Keith's fingers itched to investigate. He settled for gripping his reins tighter. A brisk wind was breaking on the stone wall to their left, bringing relief from the burning sun that stood hot and without mercy up high in the sky.

At a small stream that crossed their path, they stopped and refilled their flasks, letting the horses drink. It was there that Aurora finally found the courage to talk to him.

"I'm sorry." She had sidled up next to him, while he traced the horizon, trying to gauge when the night would fall. Pidge had determined when they started out, that it would take them at least three days to ride up, depending on the weather. And the weather in the mountains was a monster of its own. He had heard the shuffle of feet before Aurora even opened her mouth to speak. Her steps were different form Pidge's heavy boots, lighter but with purpose.

Keith turned to Aurora and smiled. "Accepted." There was no use to hold onto a grudge (_You sure_, a voice inside him sniggered.) Suddenly she did something surprising, she hugged him. Her frame was thin and somewhat fragile in his arms. He was reluctant for a moment to return the embrace. Somewhere in his hindbrain, Keith felt not worthy. But he could see over a bony shoulder that Pidge was giving him that look (the pointed one, he knew too well from his mother or Kolivan, or Acxa, or Ulaz) and he sheepishly put his arms around the princess, pressing his cheek against her white hair.

At the next stop for the night, a small cave higher up where the trees had given way to little scrubs and an even colder wind, the three of them were talking like old friends. Pidge and Keith entertained Aurora with stories and the history of the world. The princess followed every one of their words with a wondrous astonishment, that was not unlike Keith's own when he had heard them first. It was comfortable and warm, and for a moment, Keith was able to forget what lurked in the darkness and the danger they would have to face.

As predicted, on the third day the weather suddenly turned, and rain broke on the mountain. Close to their destination and already soaked through to the bone, they kept pressing on. Slowly, so the horses did not slip. They were lucky, after two hours of mist and hammering rain, they broke through the rain clouds, which spread as grey wool to the horizon. In another small cave, Keith conjured up a fire to warm their numb fingers and to dry their clothes.

"Couldn't you just have spelled us dry or kept the rain from us?" Pidge scowled at Keith, while she spread out the trouser and the blouse she had worn. Their other stuff had survived, thanks to the oil clothes that had kept the water away. She kept grumbling while she rolled herself into her bedroll and scooted closer to the fire. Sighing blissfully as the warmth chased the coldness away.

"There are no spells, Pidge," Keith said as he sat down and searched for some food in his smaller bag.

"What do you mean, no spells? The druids use spells, the alchemist of old have used spells." Pidge watched him through her big glasses. Keith shrugged, keeping his eyes trained on the contents of his pack. How should he explain?

"They do, they need to. But what I do, what I can do, is different. I can use it to fight and for safety. Like the circle when we camp in the woods or the seals at the castle. But I can't just use it for comfort."

"Did you try?" Aurora asked.

"Yes, and it did not go well."

Keith could see out of the corner of his eyes the glint in Pidge's eyes—she was eager to know more, to study him, take him apart until she knew what he was made of. She would throw him in any kind of situation, from dangerous to life-threatening, to study how his magic would react and what level of danger was needed for it to properly work. Well, Keith would have to politely decline that. Instead, he shrugged his shoulders and fished out dried meat and a bit of hard cheese. He finally looked over to Pidge, who was still tracing every inch of him, to find the hidden clue, to finally unlock the whole puzzle. But he gave her another shrug and started eating. It was dry and nearly too hard, but it was everything they had, and he was hungry enough.

It took a nudge from Aurora before Pidge finally blinked and looked away. She curled into herself, half sulking and half processing what Keith had said.

"How long will it still be?" Aurora asked, probably in an attempt to distract Pidge's evil genius. It worked because Pidge blinked again, but this time clearly in thought. She uncurled and stretched around to drag her pack closer. After a bit of rummaging, she took out a stack of papers with a triumphant sound. Unfolding them, she murmured a few minutes to herself, until she was sure about their position and traced from there a line to a circled spot, the temple-like picture. "Half a day." She finally proclaimed.

Keith nodded and stood, then walked to the cave opening, looking at the way up. "If the rain stays low, we can make the rest of the day tomorrow."

"But—"

"The light is fading, we will not see a thing. This is not open for discussion."

The other two relented. It was too dangerous to make it today.

They set out the next morning, to crisp and nearly sweet air.

For Keith it felt, as if he was back in Marmora. Deep in their mountain range and woods, strolling through the old keep, and the crumbling structures. Decay and timelessness had melted into each other, and Keith had felt right at home. They had driven their homes partly into the stone, and partially built in the woods. Both were cold and dark and perfect. Keith had trained with them, hunted with them, learned their customs and traditions. How they forged and built their weapons, how to prepare an animal that was freshly slain for eating, and how to preserve it, what plants were edible, and which could be used as medicine. They taught him their dances, their language, their songs. And they taught him their history.

Something Keith still mulled about.

On a hand signal of him they stopped. They had taken the last of the journey on foot. The path had been narrower than they had anticipated, and dampness from the night made the stones slippery.

Keith could feel it, they were close. The stop was atop a small peak overlooking a hidden valley. Not a pretty one. But filled with a few scrubs, small patches of bleak grass and greener lichen, the rest was filled with rocks and pebbles. It looked more like a forgotten river bed, then an actual valley or hollow.

"Snow melts probably bring down the water in the spring, and they form a river, crashing through here," Pidge said. Keith only nodded. Now it was dry and silent.

This was probably what was bugging him, nothing could be heard. No distant animal, no wind, no small buzzing insects. It was eerie, making the hairs on his neck stand up. He waited, a minute, two, not moving, but even with them in plain view, nobody came rushing out of a hidden place, with weapons drawn, ready for an ambush.

The took a small step down, at the bottom Pidge checked the map, to make sure they were indeed at the right place. Keith knew this was the correct place. Now he could see the withered signs on some stones, not much more than an indention. He traced them with his fingers, recognizing some of the shapes. The language of the Galra had not much evolved. His fingertips picked up the sign for blade, a sudden pang of nostalgia swept through him. He hoped Kolivan and the others did nothing rash.

"Are we at the correct place?" Aurora asked, still looking around, her shoulders tense, waiting for something to happen.

"Yeah," Pidge absentmindedly replied while she tried to find something that resembled the picture on the map.

They split up. They tied the horses at a stele with as many tufts of grass nearby as possible. The animals still snorted and turned away from them, clearly sulking. Then the three tried to find something, anything, besides strange symbols and rubble. But it remained a wasteland of dirty and broken memories.

_Had he hoped for too much?_ Keith thought as he inspected another withered stele. A hidden Galra temple, with all the secrets there, with instructions on how to eliminate the threat? He snorted to himself, clearly not. Only words, half-formed sentences. Keith rolled his shoulders back and looked up in the sky, gauging the progress of the day. Excited shouting made him turn, Aurora was waving and shouting at the other end of the small valley. Pidge and he jogged over. When he drew near, Keith could make out the outline of a small opening, just a fissure in the stone wall, barely wide enough for a person to fit through.

Keith peered into it, but there was only blackness. He fancied himself seeing a faint glow, but it could also be a trick of the light. He turned to the other two, thinking fast.

"I will go in, if I'm not back by sundown, you will make camp, and if I'm not back by morning, you will return home."

"But—" they spoke at the same time.

He leveled them with a grim look, it made Pidge thrust out her chin, a stubborn twist to her mouth. Aurora looked undecided. Keith pointed the finger at Pidge. "You are to guide her back, and you," he turned to Aurora, "shouldn't have been here in the first place." They still did not look convinced, but Keith did not give a fuck. This was not a game; they needed something, and time was running out. He looked them over, but they did not protest, so he unhooked his belt pouch and exhaled before squeezing himself through. It was tighter than Keith had anticipated, but the way shorter than he would have thought. His left foot found suddenly only air, and it took everything in him to curl his fingers into the stone and holding fast. His magic reacted and stuck him to it. Pebbles fell, and he heard the faint echo of them hitting bottom. His eye slowly adjusted to the light, he was at the outer edge of a crater.

"Keith?" Pidge's voice drifted through the opening.

"Everything is alright. But I will need a rope to get down."

"On it."

A few minutes later, Keith was on its way down, praying that the rope would be long enough.

* * *

King Takashi Shirogane hated waiting. He had always been a man of action, someone who _did_ things, started them even, getting the ball rolling. He was not used to be confined to the backseat and wait for _others_ to do something. And then there was also the matter of his wayward daughter. Shiro sighed, before trying to concentrate on the paperwork again.

A sudden knock sounded, with an air of distraction did he call the person in. Laughter made him finally lookup. His queen looked down at him, amused.

"How long have you been standing there?" He asked with resignation.

"A while." Allure admitted with a shrug of her shoulders. With a grace that seemed out of this world sat she down in one of the plush chairs in front of the hearth. "Join me, husband."

He had no reason to refuse, and any excuse to get away from the documents was a welcome one. Shiro came willingly, maybe his queen, coming from a long line of alchemists and druids, was indeed casting a spell on him. Just a soft one. She watched every one of his movements with her particular brand of silent amusement. A sparkle in her eyes that obscured her real thoughts. The chair creaked slightly under his weight as he let himself fall into it.

"What is going on, Shiro?"

It was then and there that the king remembered that he had never spoken about that particular past to her, not once. Allure had told him all about the one she had left behind—the one that had followed her here, to stay at her side, nothing more than a confidant, a part of her old home and life. But he had never repaid in kind.

He exhaled and started to speak.

"Once there were two boys, two people who would never have met if it had not been for dire circumstances. They had developed a deep friendship, one that seemed only natural to turn into the same kind of deep affection and understanding the poets call love. But one of the boys was deeply unsettled by responsibilities and choose duty, therefore, betraying what they had. The other one left without saying goodbye. The coward never heard of him again. Until years later, they met again. Through another miracle. The coward wants to make amends, build up the friendship that they had once shared. But every time he tries to say something, they are the wrong words. So he does not know what to do anymore."

Allura was silent for a good while. Shiro longed for the fire; it's popping and crackling, filling the now expanding silence between them.

"You know, the day I told Lance what will be, we had a terrible row. He did not understand why I was going through with this. Not quite. He could not comprehend the responsibility I had. We are a small kingdom. Wedged between the ocean and the mountain range, there is not much agriculture or a big army. We rely on trade and what the oceans and the forrest can give us. So this marriage," she waved a hand between them, "was for our people, my people. It was never about securing the monarchy or getting an heir. But about the future of our lands, a solid future."

"Could it not be solved differently?"

She chuckled, there was a slight bitterness to it. Shiro looked over, there was something about her, he was not able to read anymore. "Yeah, he asked the same, his eyes begging me to give him a positive answer. The truth was, by that point, time was running out." Her eyes shifted again, fierceness was in them, a hidden rage. "Other kings and lords were already sniffing around the border. Every day I got new proposals for marriages, alliances. But I knew they would only bring misery to the people and me. They did not want me for me, not even for the ocean and the trade; they wanted the druids. They wanted their secrets, their hidden powers, even if they were not spell-workers." Allura had an ugly expression on her face, venom, and hatred dripping off it. It melted away as she kept talking. He would probably have missed it if he had not been watching her this closely. "Lance. He came around, he pledged himself to the kingdom and especially me." She paused before turning her head and looking at him. "What I want to say is, we both have a duty, and not everyone can understand that. Our first concern is to the people and not to be distracted by our past."

Shiro pinched the bridge of his nose, trying to stave off an oncoming headache. Was Allura right? He looked her over once more. He saw the queen, regal and magnificent. He saw his wife, long white hair falling down, glinting in the sun fingers streaming through the window, her slender yet sturdy body sitting perfectly poised. But he saw in her eyes the woman, the sharp glint of melancholy. Duty had hurt them both, but she had always been able to hide it better. Until now. "You really think that?"

He caught the tremble in her fingers before she laced them together. "It is what I have to think, or everything will fall apart," Allura said in a near whisper.

Shiro remained silent. Allura took it as a dismissal and rose. His voice stopped her at the door.

"Will it ever stop hurting?"

"No."

Shiro let his head fell against the back of the chair, not really thinking anymore. What should he do? Just let Keith go in favor of his kingdom? But he had already done this, nearly twenty years ago. He had chosen duty, he had served his kingdom and sacrificed his own happiness for it. Was there even something he could salvage? Keith's eyes had been so cold, they had never been like that in the past. Not even after the confirmed death of his father.

The sun had already shifted deeper when another knock sounded, more urgent. Shiro exhaled, he was not in the mood for more company.

And still, he was the _king_. "Yes," he called.

Matt stood in the open door, his face grim.

"What is it?" He was out of the chair and on high alert, automatically fixing his clothes and the crown.

"There is an army at the gate, asking for you."

Shiro blinked, before pulling himself up to his full height.

"Show me."

* * *

Swinging at the end of the rope was not Keith's most favorite pastime. He had quite a few that would rank even lower but not by much. Keith tried to peer down again, but he was not able to tell if it was still a hundred feet down or merely a few. Conjuring up a fireball, safely away from the rope, did not help, because the shining light was blinding him before he was able to make out more. His upper body and the arms arched, he sunk further, but there was no ground for his feet to meet. He swallowed and send a quick prayer, that his magic would be enough, to not let him smash him into tiny pieces.

Keith let go.

The end was anti-climatic. He dropped roughly six more feet, but he found himself on his own two feet. The sudden adrenaline surge left him shaky, and Keith needed a moment to fight it down. He took another look around. The same pitch-black darkness crept around him. He had the feeling that it was not entirely natural. He conjured the fireball again, now more suited to show the way, or at least where he was setting his feet. The bottom was filled with stones, a few pebbles, some larger rocks. With some shudder, Keith recognized a quite sharp and large one right next to where he had landed, missing it by a mere inch. A twinkle in the corner of his eyes, made him turn in that direction. As Keith carefully walked closer, he came to a surprised stop, a luxite blade, shaped differently than his own lay forgotten in between the rumble. It was slightly dusty but otherwise looked perfectly fine. Upon closer inspection, he also found different symbols etched into the blade itself. He pocketed it carefully, maybe Kolivan would know what to do with it.

Keith kept his eyes open as he walked further, but there was nothing else to be found. Besides that gigantic stone head that suddenly stuck out of the wall in front of him. He walked around it and took a few steps back to get a clearer image. The stone was the same as the one of the crater around him. The more Keith traced the lines and shadows, thrown through the fireball in his hand, he was sure it was the head of a lion, black and impassively staring back at him. Keith had only ever seen one lion in all his life. All those years back together with his father, a mountain lion had crossed their path. His father had signaled Keith to be still, his little heart beating like crazy, everything in him was screaming to run away. But the lion had just looked at them, blinked once, and then slinked away. After he had been sure, the lion had been away, his father had set down, with a deep exhale. "Looks like the king of the woods had no interest in us today. Be sure to thank the gods tonight." Keith, who had barely understood what was going on, had only nodded and done so.

This lion looked a bit different, his features sharper, more pronounced. Keith carefully shuffled closer. The sound of his feet echoing slightly around him. Had they not done so before?

Keith walked even closer. When he was just a breath away, he slowly lifted his hand and laid it on the snout, or what the muzzle would have been. The stone was rough and cold. He withdrew his hand, it came away damp. Nothing had happened, and Keith exhaled. What to do next?

He turned and found now a faint light, just the smallest of slivers at the side of the stone head. He walked over. The fragment grew. A door made of stone, inviting him in. He could not see beyond blinding white light. Keith swallowed and walked through.

Soft laughter.

_Welcome home, my paladin._


	5. Those Who Walk

Aurora knew exactly how many steps it was from one end of the small stone cliff that held the entrance through which Keith had disappeared to the other one. It were twenty. She turned around again and walked them back, measuring. Still twenty. She spared a glance at Pidge, who was sitting down and studying the map. There was a deep frown line between her eyes, while she traced with her fingers along the lines and planes that made up the mountain range. Pidge had explained earlier that this map must have been a copy of a much grander one because no borders were drawn in. Aurora was unsure what one had to do with the other, and why she kept tracing those lines. They did not help here, or? So Aurora kept pacing. The sun was sinking low._ Should they make camp?_ Probably. Damnation, how she hated waiting. Her mother said she got that from her father. She always needed to do something, could not sit still. Patience was not something she was good at.

Patience yields focus.

Fuck that.

"Can't we just follow him?" Aurora at last voiced the question she had turned over and over in her head.

Pidge stopped her fingers somewhere in the middle of the map. "Probably." She used her other hand to push up her glasses while looking up.

"And why are we not doing it?"

"Am I holding you back?" There lurked a smirk on Pidge's face. Aurora only swore before she unclipped her bag and strode to the opening. At the fissure, she turned. "What will you do?"

Pidge blinked at her then turned her head to the sky. "Make camp."

"Alright." Aurora stepped into the darkness. She fumbled for the rope, glad it was still attached, and made her way down. It was easier than she would have thought. A faint glimmer drew her eyes instantly (Was that a gigantic lion head?). She tried to look for Keith, but he was nowhere to be found. Aurora looked back to the sliver, surrounding the lions head. Where the eyes tracking her? Which was impossible, or? She crept to the door, expecting with every soft step that the door would either close, or the lion would suddenly roar to life.

Laughter sounded when she set a foot through the door. High pitched.

_What have we here, a surprise, yes, a surprise._

And then there was only light. Blinding and white.

* * *

The breeze outside had shifted, bringing the noise with it, and the smell of horses and soldiers. The faint clang of weapons, the creaking of leather armor, the shuffling of the animals, the sound of voices. The castles courtyard was filled with people. When the news broke about an approaching army, those close had crossed over before the gates had been closed. The rest had vacated the streets and barricaded themselves inside their homes. There was stillness, everyone poised on edge. Shiro climbed the stairs to the parapet walk, guards had readied their bows, aimed at the foreign soldiers, ready to fire at command. Matt stood beside Shiro as they peered down.

It was only a handful of soldiers, maybe a dozen. Shiro let his gaze wander further, beyond the city borders, and found the rest waiting, just at the beginning of the woods. He counted that as a good sign.

"Who has come knocking?" He finally shouted down. His archers tensed, even Matt stepped closer, ready to drag the king out of immediate danger.

On of the riders turned his head up in his direction. He wore a full mask. A grotesk demon-like face. Matt shuddered next to him. They were different then the Galra they had faced in the past. Their armor looked alike, but the Galra wore their face open. A faction?

The rider raised his hand in slow motion, drawing his hood back, taking the mask off. The face was not less like the one of a demon, clearly a Galra, but battle-worn. A scar ran over the right eye, deep lines decorated the rest of his face. A click of his tongue and his horse danced a few steps back.

"I'm called Kolivan, I am of the Marmora, we come to aid you."

A murmur rose between the king’s guards. The town folk behind him had fallen silent. "My king," Matt said.

Marmora? Where had he heard before? A lost memory. A fabled Galra faction.

"Who sent for you?" Shiro shouted back.

"The one you call Keith."

"How shall we trust you, names are names."

But before Kolivan could counter, another voice called. "My king." Another rider came closer, drawing back their hood and mask in one graceful movement.

"Acxa!" he shouted, surprised.

"Please, we have came to help. He didn‘t want you to be defenseless," Acxa pleaded.

"What?"

But she shook her head. Shiro thought fast; if Acxa was with them, and Keith had trusted her, she had also brought back Aurora, and he trusted Keith. Marmora.

"Archers, stand down." He turned to Kolivan. "You can send a delegation in. The rest will have to retread to the main army."

Kolivan nodded and turned to a bigger rider, easily towering over Kolivan. He nodded and shouted something. Most of the riders turned and rode away. Three remained. Kolivan, Acxa, and a another one.

The walls rumbled under him as the gates opened anew. Shiro walked to the other side and looked down. His people gathered their belongings and walked out, giving the oncoming riders a wide berth.

Allura was already at the door to the main entrance, Shiro slowly descended. He walked around the strangers to stand next to her. The riders dismounted before walking closer, leading the horses by the reins. They bowed.

"Welcome to our home. We know the names of two, but who is the third?"

Kolivan gestured to the last Galra, tall as him. "This is Krolia." Who lifted her hands to take the mask and the hood down. "She is one of my most trusted generals." There was something familiar about her face, a depth in her eyes that made the king blink, but before he could chase it, Allura spoke, drawing him back to the task at hand.

"We will prepare rooms, please refresh yourself, and then we'll talk." Two stable boys made their way over, while Kolivan and Krolia handed their horses over to Acxa, who turned to the boys murmuring. The other two bowed again and followed inside.

They saw their guests shortly after again, in the dining hall to enjoy a leisurely meal of stew and freshly baked bread.

"Do your troops need provisions?" Shiro asked.

Kolivan watched him thoughtfully for a moment but shook his head. "No, we brought with us what we need, you don't need to burden yourself with our concerns."

"But if we are bound to fight together, it is my duty as an ally to meet your needs."

Kolivan inclined his head in acknowledgment but did not deny or confirm. For the rest of the meal, only the scrapping of wooden spoons in the bowls and the breaking of the bread crust could be heard.

After the whole group retired to the library, far away from the servant's ears. They settled around one of the bigger tables. Kolivan nodded to Krolia, who opened a small pack and retrieved a short stack of papers. Acxa was standing looking outside down into the courtyard.

The papers were a folded map from the kingdom and the surrounding areas. Lines were drawn, wiggly lines that could have been words written all over them and partly the rest of the map. Different places had been marked off in various colors, symbols crowded close at some locations. Krolia unfolded it carefully, gently patting it down.

"This is our world," she said in a gentle tone.

Shiro stood and looked at it, it was different from their own maps. Older, he guessed. "We have more updated ones," he said easily.

But Krolia shook her head. "Like I said, _our_ world."

Shiro was still not sure what she meant by that, but he let it slide. Kolivan put the finger on one line, he talked to Krolia for a moment, the Galran flowing between them. Krolia first shook her head and then nodded. A small smile forming on her lips. Again Shiro was struck by an odd sense of knowing her.

"Forgive me," Kolivan said, switching back to the universal language of the United Kingdom. "This here is where the Galra are coming from." He drew a full arch to nearly the other side of the map, tapping on a spot in the mountains. A valley that connected them to the other side of the range to the west. It was roughly a two weeks ride away. Shiro swallowed.

"You say coming. Are they currently there?"

Kolivan nodded grimly. "We came as fast as we could. But we needed more time than we had thought, so we are rather late, so I apologize."

Shiro inclined his head in acknowledgment.

Suddenly Krolia looked up, and at them, she crooked her head to the side.

"Where is Keith?"

* * *

Keith walked in the light and endlessness as if he walked the lands over and over again. A hellish landscape of all and nothing. But he was not alone. This was a different place, a place between places, outside of the world he knew so well. Whispers, distorted, the feeling of breath against his ear. More murmurs, whispers, _whispers_.

As if a fog was lifting, he walked suddenly on stone, and the whiteness drifted away. Solid ground, beige and brown, withered and cracked. Keith blinked against the shifting light. He was outside and inside at the same time. A stone construction opened up around him. Open windows, big holes in the wall, revealed white clouds and blue sky. Further down he could see the peaks of mountains glinting white in the sunlight, and much further down, Keith needed to crane his neck to see better, he saw stone buildings, pressed against the massive mountain range. The black of the stone mashed with green blobs. This was a settlement, maybe even a city.

More whispers. The words lost in time. Keith knew that feeling, that breathy cold feeling, that set his hair straight up into the air. Ghosts of long past.

He took a step back, as a sudden sense of vertigo made him sway. Between the columns of the windows, someone had painted colorful murals, decadently decorated with gold and carmine, with cobalt and onyx, with blobs of indigo, and a green that was as deep as the forest of Marmora.

Keith tried to read the pictures, but they appeared kind of blurry. As if the ghosts knew _of_ them but had slowly forgotten the details. As he walked further down, his eyes still trained on the pictures and the sudden breaks of blue and white, he could see ropes. They stretched from where he was walking down to the valley below. Little scraps of fabric had been tied around. Some looked relatively new, some were bleached by the sun and frazzled by the wind.

_Prayers_. Was the whisper.

Keith watched them for a moment but shook his head. He was not able to read them from this distance. He kept walking and crossed out into the open. An open terrace, with a staircase, going down, to another one opened up before him. He remained still, taking it all in. The endless sky, the frozen clouds, the birds painted on to them. A world poised on an exhale.

A sudden sound made him turn, his hand ready on his blade. Running footsteps, labored breathing. Keith drew his weapon, but let it sink again the moment he recognized the figure hurling through the opening.

"Aurora?" He stared at her in surprise, she barely managed to stop in front of him. Bowing forward to catch her breath again.

"Sorry," she said in between the panting, she coughed before straightening herself out.

"What are you doing here?" Keith was still not sure if she was real or just an illusion. Would she be gone, the moment he touched her?

"I followed you," she said matter of fact while straightening up. She turned around herself. "Where are we?"

Keith looked at Aurora a moment longer. She seemed real enough, but it was still bothering him. "How did you come here?" He did not yet let go of the tension in his shoulders.

Aurora shrugged, while still looking over the balustrade of the terrace. Looking back over her shoulder, she replied. "There was a door at the bottom of the pit, I walked through it."

She just walked—Well, it made sense, she was the child of her parents and the resulting ancestry. Keith shook his head amused, and turned to look down the set of stairs, to the next terrace and further, winding slowly down to the valley deep below. In the distance, he could see another large structure looming. "Let's go."

Aurora walked over and fell into step beside him. They slowly made their way down. "What are we looking for?"

"A clue."

"A clue?"

Keith exhaled and stopped. Aurora took a few more steps before she turned to him, looking slightly up. "Aurora, why did you follow us?"

She turned her head to the side, tracing the horizon before she replied, "I'm not really sure. Following sounded better than being in the castle, I suppose. My father would not have let me leave again." Her smile suddenly turned sharp. It reminded him so much of Shiro that Keith swallowed. "Someone once told me it is easier to ask for forgiveness then permission."

"Your father?"

Aurora chuckled. "No, the head druid." She laughed. When she did, she looked like the perfect blend between Shiro and Allura. It was hard to describe, but how her eyes shone and the whole face transformed, was not just one person, but both of them together. A sharp burn sparked in Keith‘s heart. He refrained from raising his hand to rub it away.

"Your parents will not be happy."

Aurora looked over to him again and said quickly, "they will forgive me."

Keith shook his head again and continued the descened. When they stepped down to the next terrace, the valley and the village in it had come closer. They could make out tiny houses and small gardens. The flags hung stiffly in every direction the wind had blown them before—

"What is going on?" Aurora squinted down. "The flags look wrong." She turned her head to the sky. Probably registering for the first time the clouds and birds in them. All not moving. "It is…frozen?"

Keith traced the flags. _Clan colors_. Whisper in the wind. Aurora shivered.

"Cold?" Keith asked.

"No, but I'm feeling watched. What is this place?"

Keith made a sweeping gesture with his hands, indicating everything around and under them. "This is Oriande."

"Ori-an-de?" Aurora rolled the name over her tongue as if tasting it would tell her its meaning. She blinked at him.

"This is a holy place and the ancestral home of the Galra," Keith said.

"But—" She made a gesture to the clouds and the village.

"It is frozen in time."

"What?" Her mouth was slightly opened in shock, her eyes round. "But how, why?"

Keith sat down at the top of the stairs by the next terrace, patting the place beside him. Aurora settled down, looking down the same path as him, down to the valley, and up the mountains sweeping to the other structure, prominent and looming.

"A very long time ago…"

* * *

"Where is Keith, indeed. We wonder that ourselves, he took our daughter with him," Shiro said with an air of anger.

Acxa hissed. "Surely, you are not implying what I think you are?" Her voice was cold, her eyes small.

"We are not friends, we aren't even allies, so I'm free to think what I want about your…comrade."

"You—"

"Acxa." Kolivan's voice was like a sharp blade, quiet and cutting. Acxa slumped together and pressed her lips into a tight line.

"Do you know where he took off to?" Krolia asked again.

It was Allura who answered. "He wanted to investigate some ruins up on the mountain range to the east." Shiro got up and tapped roughly the spot on the map. There was nothing there. His finger pressed down between two lines, drawn by the cartographer. Nobody went there. He could see Kolivan bringing his brows together, muttering something. Krolia studied it as well and shook her head after Kolivan's words. "He knows what he is doing."

Kolivan threw her a look that clearly stated the opposite. Krolia chuckled. "That is Keith for you."

"Has he gone alone, besides taking your daughter?" Kolivan asked.

"A researcher, who pointed the place out, went with him," Allura answered. "Are you worried?"

"Yes and no," Kolivan said at last. "We call this place, Oriande."

Besides Shiro, Allura suddenly inhaled. "Oriande?" Her eyes had gone big, she was out of her seat and upon the map in an instant.

"You have heard of it," Krolia stated.

"I'm Altean. At least I'm a direct descendant. Most of our traditions and customs have been forgotten. But Oriande was always there in our myths and legends. There are only a few of my people who still believe that it had ever existed."

"You are one of them," Krolia said.

"Yes. We still have the druids, we still have their power, waning as it is. So Oriande must have been real as well, a very long time ago." Allura swallowed. "In the past, my ancestors tried to find it. But we never could."

"Oriande decides when it wants to be found." The words turned Allura's lips down, just a bit to a frown, but Shiro knew she was disappointed.

Kolivan smiled kindly at her. "We tried to find it as well, but it has also never revealed itself to us." He shrugged.

"You think Keith will have better luck?" Shiro asked, unbelieving.

There was a glint in Krolia's eyes, sharp and deep. Hidden knowledge. "Maybe, maybe not." She smiled sharply. "Only the goddess’ knows."

* * *

"Once, a very long time ago, there was a nation of people. Proud people, skilled and knowledgeable. The gods, and especially the goddess, loved them. As the people were created in their countenance, the gods gave the people everything they would pray for. So the nation thrived, out of hard work and persistence and out of the favor they bore. Mighty and prosperous, they rose above everyone else. And at the beginning, they were good and beloved by the other people around them. They brought safety and growth with them, so all the others thrived as well.

And the gods watched them favorably.

But darkness grew, in the heart of some. It was nobody's fault really, it was as things would be, and as things are today. This seed of darkness spread, slowly but steadily.

And after some time, they did not come with love and tolerance anymore but with fire and anger and with greed. The gods were occupied by different things did not see it. And when the last emperor climbed onto the mighty throne, the corruption had already spread to him and his wife. His wife was the head priestess, the title bestowed upon her the day of their marriage. And in the beginning, they were righteous, though the seed was planted, it had not yet sprouted.

But when an accident took the life of their beloved son, she turned down a path nobody could save her from. She developed a hunger, a deep endless hunger for life and revenge, she searched for methods and rituals and sacrifices to bring her son back, to right what had been wronged in her eyes. She pointed and her husband, the emperor, followed, and with him the people.

Bringing death and blood and scorched lands with them.

When the wrath of the gods finally came, it came tenfold. The goddess, the mother of all things, grieved, and in her anger, she cursed the people, all of them, even the ones which held still the goddess in their hearts. Because they did not rebel, because they did not fight against evil and the darkness.

But she did not stop there. She froze their most prized place, Oriande. She took away their magic and their lands. After a time, the people in the lands forgot about this nation, but who they had been. They only remembered their name and what they had brought with them. Fear and darkness, and death.

The people were called Galra. Zarkon had been their Emperor and Honevra their Queen."

Aurora blinked at Keith after he had finished. "This was Galra?" She made an encompassing motion with her hand.

He smiled at her and shook his head. "No, this is Galra. This is Oriande, frozen in time." _Forever_.

"But if Oriande is frozen, why are there not frozen Galra?" Aurora shuddered visibly at the thought. "And what about the Galra that are now out there, plundering the lands. Where did they come from?"

Keith shrugged. "We will have to find out." He stood.

_Clever paladin, clever boy._

_The temple._

_High priestess._

_My king, where is my king_

_Sleep_

_Let us sleep._

Like shreds of fog, drifted the voices around Keith, into him.

"Come on, we need to go there." He pointed to the opposite side to the large stone structure. "This is the temple of the Goddess, maybe we will find something there."

Aurora looked over. "How do you know?"

But Keith just smiled and started walking.

* * *

Pidge peered into the darkness of the opening. The void was calling her, singing her a sweet melody. She blinked slowly at the cracked stone, before shoving her glasses up. She turned to check the sky, the night was approaching fast. The instant Aurora had walked through the opening and disappeared, she had thought about following her, but something held her back. She looked for some firewood, but the few brittle pieces would never nurture a fire. Still, she pulled the packs over and made camp as best as she could.

A few moments later, Pidge settled with her back against the cooling stone and watched as the stars above twinkled into existence. The view was beautiful. High up here, the air as clear as spring water, the entire sky was dotted with little lights. She longed for her telescope, she longed for a fire, to draw and record what she had seen today, but at most, she longed for her companions to reappear.

This had been a strange journey for Pidge. She was not a people person, she had her family and her studies, and this had always been enough. She did not need people, friends, that encroached her space. But Keith and the princess had not been a burden.

There had been teasing, and laughter, and stories, so many stories of places Pidge had never been to, or she had even heard about. And for the first time, she had wanted to see what lay beyond the borders of the kingdom. Not just read about them and travel to them in her mind's eye. She gnawed at the tip of her thumb. The crack in the wall was still singing to her, a sweet and soft serenade. Something only the books have done to her, whispering words of encouragement, of wisdom, of adventure.

And still, Pidge hesitated. She should be waiting here, that was the logical choice. She thought about her brother, who had taught her most skills for survival, waiting would be his choice. Pidge swallowed and stood. She checked the horses, let her gaze wander over the small camp before she was on the crack again, an even deeper darkness. Even without a real light, the break was identifiable.

Pidge pressed a hand to her wildly beating heart and slipped through it.

* * *

When Keith and Aurora reached the end of the way down, setting their feet on a circle of stone, and before just climbing up the other side, Pidge suddenly appeared. Keith was not very surprised. She looked around with wild eyes, blinking a few times, her lips forming words, but no sound, everything was just flowing away.

"Come," he said to them, and together they moved up. There was no sound besides their steps and the rustling of their clothes.

"What is this place?" Pidge finally asked. It was Aurora who answered.

"Orinade, home of the Galra, frozen in time."

Pidge stopped, pushing her glasses up. "But if it is really frozen if everything is frozen, then there should be no sound. But we can talk, and we can hear. This makes no sense."

"It's magic, Katie," Aurora said.

Pidge scrunched her nose at her birth name in distaste. "Explaining it with magic is the easy way out. Especially as we don't know anything about it. It's too convenient. I don't like it."

Keith chuckled amused.

"Anything to add, mister?" Pidge huffed, with narrowed eyes.

He smiled. "No, not really."

_We are the last._

_We._

_always._

_Please_

Both Pidge and Aurora shivered at the same time. They had started up again; the way up taking more time than the way down. The temple loomed over them with every bit of height they gained. It was an impressive building. Brown and big, with hundreds of little turrets, and colorful murals painted on the walls. It looked like the same kind of paintings as the ones on the bridge. As they crossed over the last steps, they stopped and craned their necks.

"Wow," Aurora choked.

"Yeah," Pidge agreed while Keith hummed in confirmation.

"What does the paintings mean?" Pidge walked closer and back again to examine them better.

"The story of the Galra," Keith said.

"So, this is really Oriande?"

"Didn't I already say that?" Aurora asked, irritated.

Keith chuckled and walked closer to the massive wooden doors that guarded the entrance. He laid one hand on them and breathed in. The wood was warm, soft even. Welcoming.

_My paladin._

Keith smiled. "Yeah, I'm home." He murmured.

"Keith?" Pidge looked over, concerned, but he shook his head at her.

Aurora was enraptured by the paintings, following the lines of the story around the building. Keith knew them by heart; the Marmorans had books filled with transcriptions.

The birth of their people, made from stormy clouds and the lilac night sky, the firm earth, and the changing sea. The kiss of the goddess that gave them life. The birth of their civilization. And their fall.

"Why is there an end to the story?" Pidge asked with a wrinkled brow after she had rounded the whole mural, together with Aurora. "It does not make sense."

"The goddess added it as a reminder."

"Who is this?" Aurora pointed to a dark, robed figure with a drawn hood, yellow eyes, and white hair. "She reminds me of mother."

Keith walked over, studying the picture for a moment. "Galra and Altea were both created by the goddess and lived as one for a long time, but they parted ways, a very long time ago. Long before the wrath struck Galra."

"Why did the goddess made them both?" Aurora asked.

Keith shrugged, his eyes never leaving the face of the witch. "Some say, she created one after herself, and the other after her twin sister."

"There are two goddesses?" Aurora turned to him astonished.

"Yes, but besides the very early texts, she is never mentioned again. Some argue that she is sleeping, some that she died, and some that she is the wrath." He shook his head. "But who knows."

"And this?" Aurora pointed again to the figure.

"That is Haggar, as she is called now. And once she was Honevra, the wife of Zarkon and the Queen to the Galra."

"But that was—" Pidge interjected.

"Magic," Keith whispered. And then laughed at their stunned faces. "They are not the same anymore. Honevra was good and kind, Haggar is a twisted shadow, full of hatred and darkness."

"So, what now?" Pidge asked after a moment of silence.

"We need to find a way in and see what we can find."

Pidge looked skeptical. "You think that there is something that will help?"

Keith started walking back to the door. "Maybe."

They stopped in front. In contrast to the painted walls, the doors had no decoration.

"Well, shall we knock?" Keith and Pidge both looked over to Aurora, who was looking sheepishly back. "It is only polite?"

Keith chuckled, but it could not hurt. This was the temple of the goddess, so some courtesy may be helpful. He rapped his knuckles against the wood. It was still warm and smooth, and felt very much alive. For a few moments, nothing happened, than the doors swung silently inward.

"I'm still not sure how this whole frozen time things work here," Pidge muttered as they slipped through the opening.

The inside was cold and dark. Lamps on both sides sprang to life, illuminating dark stone glittering with something inside. As if they were walking amongst the stars. Pidge harrumphed again, the words ‘magic’ and ‘bite my ass’ drifted to Keith's ears, he smiled.

He kneeled and touched the stone on the ground, polished and dark as well. It felt warm, and alive, the same as the gate had felt, there was a faint pulse, like a heartbeat. A slow enticing rhythm.

_Deeper._

_Go deeper._

_Deeper._

"Keith?" Aurora looked at him, worried.

"Let's look around."

They spread out. On the inside were no painted murals, only the unyielding black stone, spreading in every direction. Swallowing them slowly. The entrance was far behind when the lamps went out, and they were surrounded by a circle of light and darkness and glittering stars. He felt Pidge's hand on his right arm and Aurora's on his left. Trying to reassure each other, they were not here alone, they still had each other.

Laughter. And the world shifted.

A hill of endless green spread before Keith, the sky the same azure color as outside in the murals.

_She_ was waiting.

"Where are my companions?" He asked.

She smiled. _They are where you are._ She paused. _They also ask the same._ She laughed. It was like a faint breeze in the wind. Keith felt himself fall in love, just a bit.

"What happened?"

_You know the story, paladin. And you know the outcome already. You know the sacrifice, which needs to be done, to end what binds them._

Keith had known, he had always known. "Is there no other way?"

_I wish._

_I wish._

_Oh, how I wish._

_My sister… not anymore. My beloved sister. Fallen, fallen for them, fallen for him. The one. The king._

"Shiro? No." Keith thought. "For Zarkon?"

_For what she created. I tried, oh how I tried so hard, but she followed them and then she fell. So deep, so very deep._

Keith gathered his thoughts, tried to pull it all together, making sense.

A tremor.

_She is coming._

"Who?"

_My sister._


	6. In This Space

Keith woke. He found himself standing in the same place, surrounded by darkness and the stars. He could still feel Pidge and Aurora at his sides, their fingers warm through his clothes.

"You both alright?" Keith asked.

Their replies were hesitant but there.

"What did you both see?"

"My mother," Aurora whispered.

"A lion," Pidge said with confusion. "What was it really?" She blinked up at him. Dared him to answer the question, with the answer she feared.

"The goddess." He still confirmed. Pidge let out a shaky breath.

"She said something is coming." Aurora stared into the darkness, her hands on her sword, ready to draw.

"Her sister."

Pidge scrunched her brows. "But, you said the texts are silent about her."

"Yes, I think I now understand why," Keith said.

"Why—"

A tremor ran through the floor.

"She is here."

The shadows…moved. For lack of a better word. They had the same inky blackness to them, but the glittering stars twinkled out one after the other, and everything around them moved, twisted, was different from before, heavier, thicker.

"We need to get out," Keith said. They moved slowly, wadding through thick molasses.

The magic of the place caught up with them. Time froze around them. They needed to make it out of the temple. Away from the center, it would not be as thick. This here was her place, her realm. She had caught them, right where she needed them. Keith could feel her at the edge of his mind, creeping closer, tracing him with her claws.

Aurora screamed. For a moment the world stopped, but it was enough for Keith's magic to react, it blew a hole into the temple doors, they had been closer than he had thought. They tumbled out into the still and silent world of Oriande. Keith took a moment to turn and peer into the darkness, it still moved. But the tendrils stopped at the hole, the ones that crossed the threshold froze.

The three took a moment to orient themselves.

"We need to return." Keith blinked into the frozen sunlight. 

Pidge protested. "But we haven't found any answers yet!"

"Still."

"But—" Aurora laid a hand on Pidge's arm.

"Keith is right, we have been away long enough. The goddess said that they are coming, not only her. I…I need to return to the castle."

Keith nodded, Pidge still pouted but relented in the end.

_Goodbye, my paladin._

Farewell, my queen.

* * *

A thunderstorm was breaking when the news came that three riders approached the castle. The flashing of white hair in the inky darkness, made the soldiers call for the king and open the gates. They all poured out into whipping wind and oncoming rain, the king and queen, Lance, and the Marmorian delegation.

"Aurora!" Allura shouted, running over and dragging her daughter into a tight embrace, she barely had time to set a foot down from her horse. Matt cuffed his sister over the head and squeezed her shoulder shortly after. She gave him a tight smile. Keith shook his head and narrowly avoided looking at Shiro, but drifted further to the Galra standing at his side. He smiled at Krolia.

"Keith." She called and opened her arms. It was a rare display of affection when others were watching. But he did not hesitate, he slid down his horse and threw himself at her.

"I—" Keith started and broke.

"Shhh."

He felt Kolivan squeeze his shoulder, his hand heavy and big. Keith drew back and nodded at them.

"Please refresh yourself, I will have the kitchen prepare something to eat." The king announced before he turned around and walked back inside. Keith watched him go. There was a dark feeling growing in his stomach. But this was not the time nor the place. He nodded to Krolia and followed her into the building.

Alone in his room, he exhaled slowly. The ride back had been fast and hard, they had not really rested. Feeling the pressure of time, they had ridden mostly through day and night, giving the horses just the barest of rest. The words of the goddess never left his mind, coupled with the history of his folk, he finally understood what had happened and would happen.

Keith washed himself down and changed into fresh clothes. The ones he had left behind before he had so clandestinely ridden out. He was surprised to find them still present.

The mirrors reflection was not kind to him. The lines around his mouth were tight, his eyes drawn. Dark smudges gave him an ill complexion.

Keith was the first to arrive in the dining hall. Only Shiro had already seated himself at the head of the table. The right and left to him were both empty. Keith raised his chin and squared his shoulders before walking further in and seating himself in the middle, after a small bow in the king's direction. He could feel Shiro watching his every movement, the gaze dark and wild.

"Why—"

The king was interrupted by his daughter and his wife. Allura took place to the king's right, while Aurora settled to his left. Pidge choose the seat opposite of Keith, while Krolia and Acxa settled next to him and Pidge, Kolivan chose the opposite head. Matt had stopped at the door.

Silence descended upon them. On a signal from the steward, the food was brought in. It was an easy meal, simple soup, and fresh bread, watered wine, and apples from the storage. It was the kind Keith would have received with the Marmorians. It made him feel melancholy. He missed the woods and the endless sky out there. He missed the small world he had lived in for so many years.

"How far are they?" Keith asked while he dipped the last of his bread in the small flecks of soups in his bowl. It was Kolivan who answered, not looking the slightest bit surprised.

"A week."

He nodded. "Preparations?"

"The battle line will be between the woods and the river. A plain open field."

Keith tapped his fingers on the tabletop, feeling the gazes of all the people present on him. He did not dare to turn his head to take a look at the king.

"Is the witch with them?"

"The scouts brought word yesterday. They are also transporting what appears to be a heavy casket." Krolia said while she leaned back, crossing her arms.

"Zarkon," Keith whispered.

"We suspect."

"The emperor?" Aurora asked in disbelief.

"Yes. We do not quite know what happened, but he is in stasis, and the witch seeks to raise him again," Keith explained.

"But why bring him here?" Pidge asked with a frown between her brows.

Suddenly Aurora sprang up. All eyes wandered to her. "They are… they are coming for us."

"That they are," Matt said from behind them.

"No, no. For my mother and me."

Shiro scoffed. But Keith blinked, as did Pidge.

"Why do you think that, Aurora?" It was Allura's voice.

"Because we are descendants from Altea. Even if magic is sparse and not the same anymore. We still carry some of it in our blood, and she needs the magic or the essence that is in it to raise him."

Kolivan leaned forward, a thoughtful look on his face. "It does make sense."

"But did Zarkon not die, thousands of years ago?" Allura mused.

But Keith and the other Marmorians choose not to answer that particular question.

"Did you find answers in Oriande? Any help?" Shiro finally asked. "No?" When silence greeted him.

"But—" Keith tried to interject.

"Enough, we have the battle to prepare. We will find a way to destroy the witch and break the morale of her troops. Hopefully, annihilated the whole threat once and for all."

"I think—" Keith tried again.

"Silence," interrupted Shiro before he stood. "Battle planning will commence in an hour." He let his gaze sweep over the present, and after their nods, he swept out, followed by Matt.

"I will talk to him." Aurora made to follow, but her mother laid a hand on her arm.

"Let him be," Allura said gently. "Nothing will reach him, or Keith?"

He blinked at her but bowed his head. "Nothing," he murmured before he swept out in the opposite direction.

"What was that about?" Pidge asked.

Keith looked over. Pidge was leaning against the tree in his back, the moonlight highlighting the frame of her glasses, the lighter parts of her hair. The storm had broken, only chasing the clouds along the sky. He shook his head.

"You and Shiro?"

He raised an eyebrow at her. "So obvious?"

"Not quite." Pidge sat down close to him, to be able to soak in his warmth. As always, he ran hotter than the average human. She leaned her head against his shoulder. The night was cold, their breath came in white clouds.

"Aren't you cold." Pidge shivered a bit.

"Not really," Keith said.

"What did the goddess tell you?"

Keith's gaze settled on the night before them. "That I already know the answer."

"Do you?"

"Yes."

The wind picked-up, Pidge shuddered and huddled closer. Keith pulled her into a one-armed hug. Her heartbeat echoing his own.

"Keith?"

"Yes?"

"Where are the people of Oriande?"

He smiled thin and sad. "Trapped."

"Keith?"

"Yes?"

"Who are you?"

He chuckled. "Aren't you observant?"

"You are…"

"The answer."

"The answer?" Pidge blinked up at him. He smiled down. "But the question—" She sat up straight, watching him from her huge eyes. Pieces falling together behind her eyes. "I—"

"Ssh, little pigeon."

"But— I—"

"Leave it be."

"I'm sorry," she finally choked out.

"I know."

Above them, the first snow began to fall. The summer gone, before it even had a chance to take hold.

The first thing Krolia did, when Keith and Pidge finally shuffled through the library door, was to shove him in front of the hearth. Shiro just threw him a short gaze before returning to the spread maps on the table. Wooden figures and flags had been thrown over them.

"Get warm." She had told him, and Keith had just shrugged and let her be. The sudden warmth hurt, but he kept close, and his hands stretched out. A soft sigh of relief escaped his mouth when he felt his stiff muscles relax. Pidge was doing the same next to him, smiling slightly, even if it was strained.

Keith let the low murmur of discussion sweep over him, he closed his eyes. For a moment, he was alone, he and the blazing fire, everything else just background noise. He felt Krolia's eyes on the back of his head. It prickled with intensity. Keith had never talked about his time here, about the time in between the death of his father and his arrival in Marmora. Krolia just knew the gist of it, that he had been taken in by the previous king and left before the current one was crowned. But she knew, that there was something, something unspoken, something in the depth of his heart, heavy and restrained.

"We will not sacrifice the Marmora soldiers." Keith said out of the blue.

"Keith—" Krolia began, but Keith shook his head before turning and walking over to the table.

"You know why," Kolivan said, not unkindly. It flickered in the depth of his eyes. They all knew why. It was and had always been a Galra matter in the end. The humans were just here by accident.

"Still, they can die."

"Son—" The moment the word had left Krolia's mouth, the rest of the room came to a standstill.

"What?" Shiro said out loud what the others probably thought as well, besides Pidge and maybe Aurora.

"You are—" But the king could not speak the sentence to the end.

Keith turned and looked him straight in the eye. "She really is my mother, I'm what you would call half-galra."

Shiro did his best to process this, to understand. He did not start yelling outright, to his credit, but the eyes darkened still, and a deep furrow appeared between his brows. Allura looked at him in concern, while the others did not look anywhere specific. Cowards.

"Is that why you left? Because I would not understand, because you were scared?" There was hope in his voice, something he wanted to grab onto. Keith snorted.

"No." It was cruel to watch the hope in Shiro's eyes crumble, but it was the truth. There had always been only one reason.

"You never let me explain," the king whispered.

"What was there to explain? Should I have waited until you were married for an explanation until after Aurora was born, until after you were crowned king?" Keith snarled. "When, Shiro, when, would you have explained?"

Shiro cleared his throat, blinking as if he was just becoming aware where they were. "Maybe we should not do this here."

"There is nothing for us to _do_. You _betrayed_ me, I left."

"With no intention of ever returning."

"Yes," Keith said simply.

He looked away at the hurt in the Shiro's eyes.

"You took everything good and beautiful, everything I had ever dreamt about and flung it right back in my face. I thought I knew you, Takashi Shirogane, but I was mistaken." He looked back and bowed. "And now, please excuse me, my presence will only hinder the battle discussion, for which I apologize."

"You are excused," Allura said instead of her husband, who was still looking at him as if he had seen a ghost.

Keith bowed to her again and left.

Nobody followed him.

Keith knew, as he walked the garden path letting the sigils and words sink into the earth below him that would form a protective shield around the castle and the village, that something would need to give. While the battle planning the next days took off without a hitch, there was still lingering tension between him and the king. But Keith also knew that all this was unimportant. The battle would come, the struggle would pass, and after everything would return to normal. Human normal.

Keith sighed and turned.

Ulaz was waiting for him. He had not seen much of the head druid in the last days. Before and after his return. Keith saw a sad smile around his lips. Another secret that needed to be cleared up, another loose end that needed to be tied into the grand scheme of everything. Keith suddenly felt tired. Sometimes he felt as if his whole existence had been a lie, just an accident that should never have happened, but he also knew that there _was_ a reason. He walked closer. The gravel crunched under his feet. A cold wind tried to hide in his clothing, making him slightly shiver.

"It is time," Ulaz only said, before turning and walking back the way he had come. Keith blinked and turned his head back over his shoulder, watching a few leaves fall from the tree in the middle of the garden.

Yeah, it was.

* * *

Shiro looked up when Ulaz and Keith entered his office, without knocking. There was a fire going, the first flowers of frost bloomed at the window. Keith walked to the window furthest from the desk and traced them with his fingertips. There where the fingers warmed the glass up, the flowers shrunk into themselves, bit by bit.

"Why are you here?"

Keith looked over to Ulaz, who sat down in one of the chairs opposite the king‘s desk, gathering up the many folds of his garb, still smiling slightly.

He let the silence grew before Shiro huffed and put down the quill he had used to write something down.

"Talk." He nearly snapped, but it was close.

"You know," Ulaz started carefully, "your father would have been happy if you had courted Keith."

Shiro froze. Before his head snapped first to Keith and then back to Ulaz. Absentmindedly he heard a vertebrae crack. Ulaz had stopped talking and was just watching him. His expression was guarded. Shiro let his head turn back to Keith, who leaned back against the window sill, his arms crossed and his face grim. He did not look at any of them, but his gaze was fixed at a pointed on the other side of the wall. Did Keith already knew what was coming?

"What do you mean?" Shiro finally pressed out.

"He liked Keith. Everyone could see that he made you happy. He even had magic, even if it was strange, and he was intelligent, diligent, even a bit wild. The late king would not have minded if he became your consort."

"I don't understand." And he really didn't, why then marry him off to Allura, why deny what was between them?

"Because I told him it would be a bad idea. I persuaded him until he gave in."

Shiro grabbed for words. Anger rose inside him, but also confusion, utter confusion. He once again looked over to Keith, trying to find some sense there. But Keith still did not look his way, or even Ulaz', but he had balled his hands into fists. There was color in his cheeks. But there was no surprise in the lines of his body, only rage. He knew, Shiro thought. That—Shiro was not sure what he should feel about that revelation.

"Why would you do that to me, to us?" Drowning, he was drowning in emotions. Sadness, fury, anger. Resignation. Confusion. Had his whole life been a lie?

"Because Keith was needed elsewhere, and he would never have left you." Keith snorted. But Ulaz just shrugged his shoulders.

"What is it to you?" Shiro ground out. He still could not understand.

"Ah, I never told you, did I?" Instead of saying more, Ulaz rolled up the various sleeves of his many different robes. Bit by bit, it revealed the mark of Marmora, the one Kolivan and Krolia had shown him. Shiro was surprised by how little he was surprised by that.

"Since when?"

"Always. Knowledge or death."

"Knowledge or death." Came the murmur from Keith, it sounded like an automatic reply.

"I— why, Ulaz, why?" Why betray us, deceive us, why put such a heavy burden on Keith?

Ulaz chuckled, it was a bitter sound tinged with sadness. "It is a very long story. But it is also one that will soon not matter anymore."

"Ulaz," Keith said. Ulaz just smiled serenely, rolling his sleeves back down.

"I know you won't believe me anymore, but I did not mean any harm. I never meant any harm to you, to the kingdom, to Keith. But sometimes, what we want and what we get are not the same." Ulaz stood and bowed deeply, deeper than he had ever before. "I gladly called this my home over the last decades." And with a last smile, he was gone. In his wake reigned a heavy silence.

"Did you know?" Shiro finally was able to say. It was harsher than he had intended, but he just didn't care anymore. He was done with this, the world, and especially the Galra and the Marmorans.

"They told me a few years ago," Keith said it with a shoulder shrug, his eyes never tracing back to Shiro.

"And you were okay with that." It was a statement, Shiro could read in the lines of his body. Where anger had been before, there was now only the slump of resignation.

"It did not change anything."

"But we—"

"No, Shiro. You choose that day, not them, you alone." Keith finally turned, a half-twist of his shoulders, his eyes wild. He looked…wrecked for the lack of a better word. "I—" But he stopped, shook his head, and walked to the door.

"I did not dismiss you." And it was the entirely wrong thing to say.

Keith whirled around. For a second, Shiro asked himself if he would be struck down, right there in his chair. But Keith bowed. "I apologize, your _majesty_, may I be excused?" His tone and eyes danced with mockery, around his lips curled a sneer.

Shiro was tired, so tired, and waved his hand in benevolence. "Go." Another twist to Keith's mouth followed, which showed Shiro, that he had again said the wrong thing. All that was left was the slam of a door.

Alone in the dimly lit study, Shiro felt so many regrets, it made it difficult to breathe.

* * *

Keith fumed. How dare he, how the fuck did he dare, the great King Takashi Shirogane. The hurt and the anger bubbled along Keith‘s skin, seeped deep into his very being. It danced restlessly along his finger. He wanted to hit something, someone, let the outside hurt him, let the pain he so deeply felt settle around him, forming a physical anchor. It was not the right way, it was never the right way. It had taken Kolivan years and nearly all of his patience to teach him that. Because losing control with the magic thrumming through his veins could have catastrophic consequences.

Keith had nearly done it once, in a fit of anger and grief, had he nearly killed his newfound family.

_Deep breath, take a deep breath._ The voice of the leader rumbled through his thoughts. _Concentrate, kit, you can do it. Let it bleed out. You are not the anger, it does not control you, you control it._ Slowly, so very slowly, the heart rate went down, the tremble in his fingers stopped, the urge to hurt, to bleed settled down.

He turned his face into the breeze, let it cool his heated cheeks, chasing the patchy redness away. It smelled like frost and ice. With a last sigh, he let go.

Keith‘s magic came, a tidal wave of fire and smoke, not as a destructive force, but as warmth. It buried through him and into the ground, painting sigils after sigils with every step he made. Taking the restless energy in him and dispersing it. Safety, protection, prosperity, victory—word after word flowed through him and down, deep down. Keith flipped the anger to happiness and well-wishing. All the good things he once associated with the king and kingdom, all the dreams and hopes he once had, even if he was not a part of it anymore, all of it he let it drift into the earth.

Closing his eyes, he smiled and cried, while the love he once held burst through him and activated seal after seal, layer over layer of every good thing that could be.

Everything glowed, once, twice, before falling away and the magic retreated once again. Taking the storm for the moment with it, leaving only calmness behind.

A crunch of gravel made Keith turn. At the end of the path, the king watched him. His eyes unreadable from a distance, his whole body hunched, curled inward, waiting for a fight, he did not mean to win. Keith looked down at his hands, waited for the anger to return, to fester once again. But he found only a gentle nothingness.

In the end, none of it mattered anymore.

Slowly the king came closer, his steps careful, measured. His movements slow, as if approaching a wild animal, poised for flight at a moment's turn. Keith only blinked at him.

"Why are you here?" Keith asked.

"I need to apologize."

Keith crossed his arms. "Do you even know for what?"

Shiro came to a stop the length of a foot between them. He exhaled. "You are not one of my subjects, but I made you behave as one."

Keith shook his head. "Is that all?"

"For what more should I apologize?"

Keith only raised an eyebrow. Night crawled over the horizon. The light was fading fast.

Shiro looked away. "That was a long time ago, and I had no choice."

"You had one choice. One. Telling me in person. And you _choose_ not to."

"I—"

"No. You did not come to me and tell me that in person, you did not give me a chance to grieve with you. You were a coward. And you still are."

"I—" Shiro tried again.

"You know, I loved you. Loved you more than anything, you were my world, my brother, my best friend, my _soulmate_. The other half, I never knew I was missing before meeting you. And you all took it away, with silence."

"I'm sorry," Shiro finally whispered.

Keith chuckled, a short merciless sound. "I don't fault you for choosing the kingdom, I never did. But I never understood why you choose silence."

"Because I did not want to believe it until it was too late, and the facts stared me in the face. I tried to find the words so many times, but I never got them out into the open, because I really believed I would wake from this terrible dream." Shiro paused, licking his lips. His eyes finally meeting Keith’s. Still unreadable. "I loved you all those years ago, and I have never stopped loving you."

"Allura—"

"Is my queen, and the mother of my daughter. She is my friend and companion, but she never held my heart."

"You are a cruel man," Keith said with a shake of his head.

"I know."

"This is not a wise decision." For neither of them. And when had they gotten so close? Their foreheads touching. The breath mingling. A new tremble started in him, one not laced with fury and suppressed anger, but with want and need and please, please, please.

It was a bad idea.

But when Shiro reached for him, Keith did not pull away.

All those years back, Keith had imagined their first time together quite differently. Maybe sweeter, maybe wilder, probably more clueless. But this desperate dance, bordering on heartbroken, had never come to his mind. There was love and worship but brought to light with a fever and intensity that nearly broke him. As Shiro took him again and again, whispering prayers into his flesh, words of sweetness and promises, the world outside, the years between them fell away, and all that was left was them, both stripped bare.

That was until the morning light broke through the room, and Keith, woken from the sweetest slumber he'd ever had, remembered. He sat at the edge of the bed, already fully clothed and for a moment, watched the sunlight filter through the window and the specks of dust dancing in the pale rays. He looked down at Shiro, snoring slightly. For a second, Keith allowed himself to imagine what could be. He reached out his hand, wanting to feel that smooth flesh under his fingertips again, learning the body and the skin anew. But just the width of a breath away, he stopped and stood.

And he walked away.

The air was crisp and fresh, biting, cold. Keith did not feel welcome anymore. As he settled by the tree in the middle of the garden, looking back, he was not surprised at the person that settled next to him.

"Why are you here, Keith?" Allura's voice was surprisingly smooth and steady.

"To protect." It was the truth. "To eradicate." Another truth. It was time to eradicate the threat that plagued the lands. To lay to rest the ghosts of old.

She shifted beside him, her gaze was scrutinizing. For what more did she search?

He could hear footsteps coming closer, heavier, faster. Keith did not dare to turn around. Otherwise, he would falter.

"What will you do when the battle ends?"

"Go." The answer came without thinking.

"If Aurora had not been, would you have ever come back?" Allura asked.

"No." And that was the fundamental truth of everything. Keith had not wanted to return here. Maybe he had longed for it, but mostly for the bittersweet memories, his heart held so dearly. It had never been his intention to walk through those gates again and seek the king.

He finally turned, and there was Shiro, watching them. Hurt flashing across his face, and resignation. The same, Keith had felt then and was still feeling. The dream was over. The deed was done, and all that there was, all that remained was regret.

More steps sounded. Krolia came down the way, her face set. "Keith."

He nodded and bowed to the king and queen before walking away.

It was time.


	7. End

"My Queen." Allura looked towards the voice. She should have guessed because every morning, it was the same. Even now, on the eve of the battle, he still kept to the schedule. She would wander through the gardens in the early morning light, regardless of the season. Allura loved the crisp feeling of frost and ice in winter, the busy bees on a spring morning, the soft breeze and the fragrances of summer flowers, and the earthy steadiness of autumn. At the beginning of every walk, she would be alone, enjoying the solitude, that would dissipate the moment she returned to the castle. When the sun entirely slipped over the horizon, Lance would always join her. She would smile at him, he would answer with a nod, and together they would make another circuit before parting again.

Allura had been content with that all these years. She had felt it then, after speaking their marriage vows, when the king had slipped the small crown over her head, his eyes soft and sad, she had felt that this circlet had been made for another person.

She had learned his name many years later.

Being in a constant contest with a memory had not been easy. While Allura had never resented Shiro, he had been a good husband, a good father and an even better king, but he had not been a lover. His mind distracted by the specter that hunted him.

Allura smiled at Lance, the same way she did every morning. And Lance nodded his head, the fist over his heart, a small bow before they fell into a step side by side.

As the feet hit the gravel with a soft crunch, she blinked. It was the same as always, and still, the world had shifted.

Watching your lawful wedded husband kiss another man, will do that to you apparently.

She swallowed. Allura had seen the love. She had seen it in the way Shiro had cradled Keith's face between his hands, how they had stood under the flickering light of the hallway lantern, their lips only inches from each other. How Keith had turned his head into the cradle, into the feeling of those soft hands, she knew well.

"My Queen?" It was the first time Lance ever broke the silence of their morning walk. She looked over, and was met with a concerned gaze, angered even. Did he know what she was thinking about? Could he?

"I—" _I'm fine_, Allura wanted to say. _I'm alright. I'm okay._ But every one of those words got stuck. She had never lied to him, never since the day they met as small children in the courtyard of her parents' castle. He was missing a tooth. He had a shit-eating grin, bloody knees, and a runny nose, she was displeased because he had won the tree-climbing contest. He had been annoying, always tagging along, the son of the cook and the head knight. Allura had hated him, but he had shared everything with her, an apple, when they had gotten lost in the woods, and she had been hungry. His jacket, when she had fallen into the fountain trying to catch a fish. His bed, when she had been plagued by nightmares, and her responsibilities, when he had followed her to the United Kingdom.

Somewhere along the way, between the apple and the announcement of her betrothal, she had fallen in love with him.

Allura had cried in his arms, deeply, ugly, and he had held her close; dried her tears, and told her it was her decision and he would support her no matter what. He had always been at her side, steadfast, and with a soft smile.

Her rock, her guide. Her love.

"I'm sorry, Lance."

"My—"

"Please, just once, call me by my name, as you once did when we were children."

"Allura." It was breathless, a whisper you would hear in the dead of night. She smiled at him. "Why are you apologizing?"

She stopped and turned to face the sky. The shadows of the naked tree branches danced over her face, flickering between darkness and light. "I never set you free."

"I—"

Allura held up a hand to halt his words, stepping closer at the same time, and taking his left hand with her other one. "When you decided to come with me, as my friend and my aide, I never denied you. I was upset and selfish. Your decision to follow me here had made me so happy, it still does. But—" She paused.

"But what?" He stepped closer. His warmth seeping to her, she could feel it, had always longed for it.

"It is time that you go."

"Go? Where?" Lance furrowed his brows, not understanding what Allura wanted him to do.

"Away from here." _From me._

"Why?" He blinked at her. She gripped his hand more firmly, grounding them both at the moment.

"Because I should have done it all those years ago."

"But, why now?" Lance looked so helpless, so confused. She wanted to raise her hands and smooth it all away. To take his face, and kiss him until he understood exactly what she wanted from him.

"Is it because of them. Do you want to be alone?"

"No, it is not about my husband and whatever _he_ is."

"How can it not be." Lance seethed. "If possible, the king would be choosing him!"

"I know!" Allura shouted, alerting a flock of birds in a nearby tree. "I know." It was gentler. "And it is not about them, but about you and me, and about being sure."

Lance stopped beside her. "Sure?"

"Sure about me, about us." She looked at him. "When Keith returned, after years and years of absence, their feelings were still plain and simple to be seen. Their love, however twisted it may have become, was still there; and I want that, I crave it. But you have always stayed by my side, have only known one life, and I don't want you to wonder years from now, what may have been. So go, after the battle, when you have survived, and the dust has settled, and the wounded taken care of, go. See the people, the world, and if you still desire me, return."

Lance swallowed. He grabbed for Allura's hand, holding steady. His fingers were ice-cold and a shudder went through him, once, twice, before he was still. When he finally met her gaze, his eyes were clear. "Okay."

"Okay?" A smile tugged at Allura‘s lips.

"Okay."

* * *

The opening to Keith‘s tent rustled. White hair was the first thing Keith saw as he looked up from sharpening his sword. But it was not Shiro standing in the middle of his battle tent, but Aurora. Her eyes were stormy, her body vibrating with anger.

"I do hope, this time, your parents are informed of your whereabouts." He said dryly.

Aurora stopped her movements for a second before she snorted, and all tension bleed out of her. "My parents," she began slowly before she lapsed into silence. "My parents are a mess, and liars."

Keith stopped his motions. "Give me a moment." He looked back down at his sword, checked the sharpness with the pad of his thumb, before cleaning it and putting it away. He stood. "Take a seat, have you eaten?"

Aurora shook her head. Keith nodded and walked out. It took him a few minutes to return with two bowls of stew and a mug with hot amber liquid. Aurora took a bowl and the mug gratefully. She sniffed at the liquid.

"It's a traditional marmoran battle drink. No alcohol, only herbs that sharpen the senses and clear the mind."

She took another sniff, it had a minty earthy smell, before taking a sip and then digging into the stew. She ate a few spoons full before she started. "Are you part of it, Master Keith?"

Keith swallowed and looked at her for a moment. Then he took the chain from around his neck and laid it between them. He had mostly ignored it was there, worn it year after year, but never acknowledged it. Shiro had kissed it with a fever glean in his eyes the other night, had touched it, with so much hope in his eyes, that Keith had needed to avert his gaze and distract him. "If you ask me if I'm just an innocent bystander, and pure in intent than no." He let his index finger glide over the ridges. "I love him, and I have for a very long time."

"When did you meet?" Aurora was curious.

Keith smiled. The memories slowly rose in him. "When I was a little boy. Did you know that I was a ward of the previous king?" Aurora shook her head. "They found me in the woods, small and lost. Wandering aimlessly, dirty, hungry. My dad had left a few days before. He wanted to go hunting or fishing, I don't quite remember. He did that often, but he always returned before the night came. Because he knew I feared it." Keith chuckled, sad, his eyes never leaving the gleam of the ring. "But this time, even after night had long fallen, he had not returned. So when the day arose, I began searching. The woods terrified me. All the noises and the dark underbrush, the shifting and twisting, the movements. I ate berries and drank from small creeks. Years later, I realized what I did was very dumb, I never thought that my dad could have returned any moment and find me gone. Maybe then I had already felt what must have happened. Anyway, on the third or was it the fourth day, they found me. I was terrified of them, standing in the middle of the road, I was suddenly surrounded by these riders, tall man, all grim looking. The king himself, a big man on a white horse, just grabbed me easily, a half-starved runt, and heaved me up. He asked me what I was doing, and I told him truthfully that I was looking for my father, who had never returned. Then I passed out." He drank from his own cup. Aurora was slowly eating her stew, hanging on every word of his. "I woke in a small tent, a soldier tending to me. They gave me stew and fresh bread. I ate so quickly I nearly made myself sick. Later the king appeared, and brought me the news, I already knew deep in my heart—my father was dead. They assumed he had fallen off a cliff and maybe drowned. The river had taken him and brought him to a small beach further down. I was devastated."

Aurora reached over, laying her hand on his. After all those years, the memory still hurt.

"I truly was an orphan. An accident, a blip in time, and I was all alone. But to my surprise, the king was kind. Well, that came out wrong. He was always kind, but he took me in as a ward, he himself. I still wonder why. I was to be the companion for the crown prince, your father. A boy just a few years older than me." Keith smiled, remembering Shiro's toothless grin the first time they met. "He was nice, maybe a bit spoilt, but he was the sole heir, so not a real surprise there. But your father had a big heart. He sat with me, when I cried, he calmed me down when I got angry out of nowhere, he helped me with learning what I needed to know. He became my friend, my best friend, and my only one." Keith shrugged. "He was also the one to encourage me to take up with the head druid when my magic came calling. I had wanted to hide it, I was terrified. Magic. I thought they would execute me or banish me, and I would be all alone again. But Shiro, he stayed with me, took my trembling hands in his and looked me in the eyes, he told me he would always protect me." Keith blinked and looked up at the ceiling, blinking the emotions away. The candles on the table flickered, throwing hunting shadows on the tent sides.

"Until he didn't."

Keith sighed. "Yeah, something like that."

"It's not fair, why could you not just be happy?" Aurora asked, putting the empty bowl to the side.

"If we had been, you would never have been born."

"I—" Aurora blinked.

"I'm sorry." Keith scrubbed over his face, resting his arms on his elbows. "It's just, everything is more complicated and at the same time, pretty simple?"

Aurora studied him for a moment before she nodded.

"Me, loving Shiro and being together with him, would have meant that you would have never been born. But it also means that maybe a substitute for you would be here, born to your mother and someone else. So still you, but different. Maybe it also means we would never have discovered Oriande, never would have known how to fight the high priestess. Maybe I would have never found my mother, my other family, my heritage. Or I would have, but on the wrong side of the battle line." Keith shrugged.

"So, you are saying, it is the past, and everything has happened for a reason?"

"Well, not a reason, but things have happened, and we can't go back anymore." Keith smiled.

She looked at him, understanding in her eyes. "So, if the past is the past, and does not matter anymore, you and my father may still have a chance?"

"Cheeky." He waggled a finger at her. "And no." The lie had been readily on his lips, but what did it matter anymore?

"But—"

"Keith? Are you still awake?" Krolia stood in the tent opening, watching them both. "Your highness." She acknowledged Aurora with a nod. "It is late, you should both be asleep."

Keith smiled. "You are right." He turned to Aurora. "Did you leave a message?" This time.

"Yes, Matt knows where I have gone."

"Mother, is there a place she can sleep?"

The eyes of Krolia glittered in the half-light. "I have a spare bedroll."

Aurora inclined her head. "Thank you, general."

Krolia snorted. "Let's get you settled, highness."

Aurora threw Keith a glance that spoke of the many questions she still had, but he smiled at her. His mother was right, it was late, very late.

And then he was alone. Him and the shadows and the old unbidden memories. He probably should let it all go. As Aurora had said, the past was the past, and the future did not matter anymore.

The horn call came when the first rays of the sun had barely peeked over the horizon. Keith had been watching the light unfold, a cup of strong tea in his hand, clothed and ready. The soldiers from the United Kingdom marched in. Keith watched them from a distance, they were greeted by Kolivan before the king and the queen greeted their waiting daughter. They sent her back to the castle. They all had their own role to play.

Over the heads of the others, Shiro's eyes found his. The gaze was unblinking. Aurora said something to him, he nodded and turned, breaking the staring contest. Keith tightened his hold around his sword hilt. It was better this way.

Let the past rest.

Let Shiro move forward.

Keith accepted a hug from his mother and handclasp from Kolivan.

They all had a part to play.

The troops took their positions. The Marmorans would fight on foot, the soldiers of the United Kingdom on horses. Keith could hear their hooves in his back dancing nervously. They would form a line to get at those that broke through the ranks.

They all were nervous. They could feel it in the air. The air had shifted, darkness creeping in. A dark cloud hanging over the horizon, slowly drifting closer. Keith fancied himself hearing the sound of their chain mail, voices that grunted commands.

He did not turn his head when Shiro sidled up beside him.

"Keith." He called and climbed down from his horse.

"What are you doing?" Keith hissed helplessly at him.

"Keith," Shiro repeated.

"For all you believe in, get back on that goddamn horse, and fall back into line."

"Keith," those lips said a third time. Life was unfair. Shiro was right in his line of sight, magnificent, beautiful. The pale morning light caught in his hair, in his eyes, and the gold of his crown. He raised a gloved hand and put it slowly on Keith's cheek. For a panicked moment, Keith thought Shiro would kiss him. No, he only smiled, slow and sad and endless, and Keith fell into him, nearly drowning, in what was Takashi Shirogane.

"Be safe, beloved." It was nearly twenty years ago that Keith had heard those words for the first time from Shiro's lips. And right here, for just a blink of an eye, all the hurt and pain drained away. They were both the people they had once been, still at the beginning of something grand, full of happiness, stuffed with dreams and hopes.

"I will," Keith answered, the moment draining away, leaving them cold and wet on a battlefield. Shiro nodded, he dropped his hand and walked back to his horse. A last lingering look before he turned his beast and rode away, slipping just like that back into line. Keith exhaled, chasing the last of the illusion away. He avoided the knowing gaze of his mother and looked on, gripping the heft of his sword in one hand and the blade in another tight.

It did not matter at all.

When the Galra came, they came with a wild cry and a storm, black moving shadows and shining yellow eyes. Keith drew his sword, and with a cry, he followed his fellow fighters into the thick of it.

He crashed his sword in body after body, soon sweat trickled down his brow, mixed with the blood from a cut on his forehead. It hurt his eyes and made his vision slightly blurry, but he kept going.

His clan had been untruthful, they had not told the human soldiers everything. They needed to move quickly; the Galra, the Marmoran, and the ones who followed the witch, would not stay dead for long. They couldn't. The curse of the goddess would not allow it. Soon they would rise again, first as ghosts, before they could return to the land of the normal living. It would be faster than years back, since the in-between world was full of cracks that allowed them all to return. They would come, pick up their swords, and join the battle again, over and over.

There was only one chance, getting to the witch. Keith wiped the blood out of his eyes as best as he could and pressed on. His mother had pointed to where the darkness was thickest, before going under, he followed the trail, mowing down anyone who was coming at him.

It felt like an eternity before Keith finally broke through the ranks, and found only the witch before him. No, the witch and the massive swaying shadow of the Emperor. His eyes had an eerie yellow glow, she had succeeded with whatever she had stolen from Aurora at the temple, it had been enough, she had woken her king. But this Zarkon was not the same from ten thousand years ago, this was a brainless monster prepared to kill them all. Keith gripped his sword tighter, this all would end today, one way or another. He was prepared for it.

But before he could take a step forward, another person was by his side. Keith closed his eyes. He should have known he would come, would be there with him in the most dangerous place, doing the most heroic and courageous thing he could possibly do. Keith sighed.

"Let's go."

Shiro nodded.

They divided the targets. Shiro took on Zarkon, trembling under the massive sword that swung down and met his head on. For a second, Keith could only watch. It was a brutal fight, Zarkon did not fight with any finesse or grace, but with brutal force and pure strength. Throwing his everything into it, because he would never tire, never stop, until his tie with the witch was cut. This fight would have only one outcome. Keith needed to move fast.

"Haggar."

"You are finally here, paladin." Her voice was hoarse. "So, let's begin."

When the first energy salve hit him, it nearly shattered Keith‘s resolve, it hurt, it hurt so badly. But he could not fail. It had never been an option. He pressed on. He called his magic hardened it into a shield and pressed, letting the energy of the witch flow around him.

The ground shook under him, the shadows grew, clawing for Keith, whispering words of happiness and wishes directly into his heart. Send him dreams of a future where he could live happily with everything he desired, with Shiro at his side, normal, endlessly, without a shadow of darkness looming over them. He swallowed, he wavered for a second. Keith turned his head just a fraction, a moment of distraction, but it was enough as the witch laid into him, sending him flying back.

"Concentrate, kit," Kolivan whispered.

"Son, be brave." Krolia.

"You can do better." Ulaz.

"Go get them." Pidge.

"Protect the king." Matt.

"I trust you." Allura.

"Please." Aurora.

"I love you." Shiro.

Endless voices, endless wishes, Keith took them all in, and he walked, the magic coming willingly, faster and faster, endlessly.

_My paladin._

And everything erupted in white and gold and purple, and he was not alone. She was there, beautiful, like the stars in the night sky, endless like the sun rising.

_Sister_, she said, and Haggar shuddered, once, twice. _End it, it's time._ But Haggar was looking at Zarkon frozen in his fight with the king. Shiro was bleeding from the side, the wound deep. Zarkon was slowly pressing him down. Close, so very close. Keith swallowed but kept still. _Let them go, let him go, return with me._

Haggar's image flickered, and for a moment, Keith could see the goddess she had once been, her features the same , but darker, sharper, sadder.

_I will let you dream, as long as you wish, and I will let him dream the same dream._

Haggar turned to her sister, before walking over to her husband, laying a hand on his arm. The rest happened in the space of a breath. Zarkon stopped and fell, and Haggar vanished. _Sleep well, sister._

And the battlefield returned. The darkness slowly drifting away. It took the forces a few minutes to understand that something had changed, that something was missing, and when they did the Galra and the Marmoran stopped alike. Waiting, turning to Keith.

"Keith," Shiro said in that voice of his, the one that could span a universe.

Keith looked over and smiled. For the first time in a very long time, he could smile, free and without bitterness, without the pressing fear of something bad will happen. "It's over." He said, looking at the now still body of Haggar and her king.

"Yeah, it is," Shiro confirmed. He swayed and used his sword to keep him upright. Keith scrunched his brows, the wound looked ugly. "Keith—"

"Keith." Krolia was beside him, covered in blood and dirt. Her armor was torn, the grip on her blade trembled slightly. "Keith," she said again. And there was Kolivan, and Acxa, Ulaz, and all the others. Keith could see Shiro wanting to say something, but he clicked his mouth shut as the dead began to rise. The curse was still there, only Haggar's control was gone.

"It is time," Kolivan said.

_Yeah, it really was._

"Keith?" He looked at his king. Confused and exhausted, Shiro did not understand, how could he?

"You know, there was once a legend of an ancient folk trapped in the world between. One day, the goddess who had cursed them said to them, one day, I will give you the chance to free yourself. I will give you the chance to free yourself and finally find the courage to face the darkness. When you do, with good in your heart and your will steadfast, in the promises the witch might make then you will be free again."

"A curse?" Shiro blinked at him.

"A curse cast ten thousand years ago." Keith pointed at Haggar, before waving his hand around the gathered ones. "They all came through the void." They were watching him and Shiro, with fathomless eyes and a solemn air.

"We are sorry." They said in unison.

"I know," Keith sighed.

"What is happening?" There was a definitive tremor in Shiro's voice. He slowly sank down, helped by Matt and Allura, who had come to his side, after the fighting had stopped. Keith walked over to him. He bowed down and kissed Shiro‘s forehead.

"I need to release them."

At that, a sigh went through the gathered. Keith smiled and let the hold on his magic go. Bit by bit, the others melted away.

"Goodbye, my precious boy." Krolia smiled before she vanished. Kolivan nodded. Ulaz smiled. Soon, no one was left, beside him. Shiro looked up.

"Keith."

Keith smiled. He could see the horror in the eyes of his beloved, as he saw the smoke curling around Keith.

"But—" Shiro lunged for him, but his fingers went through. Keith's smile was now soft and sad, and nothing Shiro had ever seen.

"I'm a Galra. And even if I was born into this world, I still can't exist in it." He chuckled. "I'm sorry for my anger, for my silence. Shiro, I—" And nothing was left beside a ring on a chain. A ring bearing Shiro's coats of arms, given eighteen years ago.

"Keith?"

But no one answered.


	8. Eternity

When the call came of a lone rider approaching the castle gates, Shiro was out of his seat, through the hall and out the door in a heartbeat. He climbed the stairs to the top of the wall and squinted down. Matt was beside him, comforting in his presence. The rider was a tiny dot, seemingly in a hurry; for a moment, a terrible sense of déjà-vu came to the front of his mind, but there was no one in pursuit. Shiro hoped, as he had hoped for the last three years, with every call, with every unknown rider or person coming, he would climb atop the wall and wait and hope and pray. Clutching the chain with his ring trough his tunic and wishing.

With every hoof beat on the streets, the rider drew closer, grew, became more substantial. Until Shiro could make him out. But for him, there was nothing to see, long flowing robes, hair dark in the late sun of the afternoon. And Shiro’s heart sunk. He motioned to the guards to open the gates. With a rumble, the massive doors moved, he turned to Matt, “Get the queen.” His head guard saluted and hurried away. Shiro kept watching, like a form of punishment, even if he knew—the rider was close, his lanky build had not changed much in the last few years. He did not stop after he flew through the gate. Sudden footsteps mixed into the clatter of hooves. Shiro watched his queen burst through the door and then break into a run, stopping shy of the rider.

“Lance!” Allura exclaimed. He threw her a rakish smile, throwing his arms wide open after he dismounted. She barely hesitated for a second, before burying herself in them. Shiro had never seen her so happy. Lance had gone when the dust from the battle had settled, and the wounded had been cared for. Allura had watched him go until his figure had been reduced to a mere dot and disappeared beyond the horizon.

They had worked hard to stabilize the kingdom again, gaining back the trust of the people. Shiro had not once stopped, sacrificing everything he had left to give. He looked down. Matt was waiting at the bottom for him, his eyes steady and serious. The fine tendrils of dread settled in the pit of Shiro‘s stomach. His gaze swept back to Lance and Allura. He knew what needed to be done.

The king gave the pair a few more minutes before he climbed down and joined them. “Lance, it is good to have you back. We need a good healer.” He smiled.

Lance watched him warily. They had not parted on the best of terms, but three years had mellowed everything inside of him. Shiro took a step back and looked at them, really looked at them. He caught Allura’s gaze and held it. There was trepidation but also something stubborn, she would fight him, she had chosen.

“We will talk later.” He said calmly before turning around and walking back inside.

“I will relinquish the crown to Aurora.” The fire crackled in the hearth. The night had plunged the library into darkness, the fire, and the chandelier on the table in front of them the only source of light. The three people before him looked like shadowy figures, or just a figment of his imagination, like—just like Keith and the Galra, ghosts in the night, that may never have been real. Maybe it all had just been a very long collective nightmare.

Lance was silent, a mix of surprise and caution on his face. He was biting his lip, but as an outsider, it was not his to make a comment. His queen, no, Allura, was poised perfectly in her chair, a raised eyebrow the only thing that betrayed her thoughts. And his daughter, she was in shock.

“But—” Aurora fell silent again, before finishing her thoughts.

“Let’s cut to the truth. This marriage is over, it was over even before it began. I know that both of you have acted honorable.” Lance bowed his head, and there was a smattering of pink on Allura’s cheeks. Shiro looked at them fondly, he had behaved badly, he was to blame, probably. “Lance is now back, and we need to figure the situation out. It would be cruel to keep you from each other, but an affair would be dishonest. I could just resign, and Allura could take the throne, but she still would not be able to marry, as long as I’m alive. So there is only one choice for you, your title or Lance.”

Allura smiled softly and reached over the gap between their chairs to grab Lance’s hand, twining their fingers together. It was a natural gesture as if they had done it for years.

Shiro looked at his daughter. Her fingers trembled slightly on her thighs, her gaze was wild and unsure. But there also lurked excitement. He was sure at that moment that he had made the right choice.

“But—” Again, Aurora did not know how to finish it.

“You are young, I know, and without much experience in the matter of the state. We trained you as best as we could. I’m sure your mother will keep your company and counsel. I have faith you will do good and be a magnificent queen.”

“And you? Will you be here to guide me as well?” There was fear in her eyes and a faint knowledge. Aurora already knew.

Still, Shiro shook his head. “I will go, travel, see the world. I have never left this kingdom, and now it is time.” He smiled. “This,” he pointed to the papers under his hands, “are the documents for the coronation, the change of leadership, the ending of our marriage. All it needs are your signatures. Please read them carefully. I will oversee the coronation, and after all is done, I will leave.” Shiro stood and walked around the table. He stopped in front of Allura and bowed to kiss her forehead.

“Be well, my queen, be happy.”

“I was, and I will be.” She said softly.

He answered in kind, and with a last gaze, he left.

Exactly one month later, when the coldness of the early frost had already swept through the lands and the people hurried to bring in the harvest and prepare for the oncoming winter, Takashi Shirogane stood in the courtyard of a castle that was not his anymore, and prepared his horse for the journey. It was early, the sun had not even announced itself by sending the first glimmer of the newborn day along the horizon, a faint glimmer of the lamps was the only light source. A few lone guards were doing their patrols, glancing his way from time to time, but nobody approached him. The coronation of Queen Aurora was now one week in the past, and people had become used to the sight of Shiro without his regalia.

He checked his pack again, everything was tightly in place, and what he had forgotten was not needed in the first place. He mounted his stallion and was about to give the command to open the door when a person hurried out from the castle. It was Pidge. She had come back the day before from a lengthy expedition that had taken her across the land in the last year. Pidge was still trying to get to all the secrets of the world, especially about a particular ancient culture. They had bonded over the years, finding a partner for their grief over Keith’s loss.

“Shiro.” She shouted, her hair was standing in every direction, she either jumped right out of bed or had never gotten into it.

“Pidge.” He acknowledged and waited. She shivered in the cold, her breath coming in little white clouds.

“Matt just told me. Where will you go?”

“Here and there, I’m not sure. I can’t stay anymore.”

Pidge nodded, yeah, she would understand. “I—I may have something for you. I can’t promise anything, it just a hunch…” She trailed off, her big eyes blinking.

“What is it, Pidge?” He asked gently.

“There is a mountain to the east, a big one, they called it Oriande.” Shiro inhaled. “At the top is a small plateau, up top, there is a crack in the stone and through it is a crater. At the bottom, there is a door. Maybe what you seek can be found there. And if not, it may just be a beginning to your journey.”

Shiro studied her, her eyes were pleading, sincere. He raised his right hand and laid it on her head. “Thank you, Pidge.” She nodded, still shivering. “Go back into the warmth, maybe we will see each other again.”

She smiled, sad, and knowing. They knew it would not happen. She took a couple of steps back, and Shiro shouted the command. The gate rumbled open, he snarled, and the horse thundered out.

The day was breaking when he reached the first steps of the mountain range. Not many people ventured here, ghost stories and legends kept most of them away. His horse was not very excited about climbing a dead looking mountain upwards. The woods around them had lost all leaves, and the gnarled branches looked like skeleton fingers reaching for a white-grey sky. Shiro‘s breath came in little white puffs. He drew his robes tighter around him, the heavy wool doing its best to keep the icy cold tendrils away from his skin, but the way was still long. He made camp at an outcropping, barely secured from the wind that had started up late last night, dancing and howling around the mountain, making its displeasure known about being disturbed.

Shiro slept fretfully. Shivering and turning, his dreams filled with darkness and glowing eyes. He woke with a start, the sun still only a silvery line at the end of the horizon. He wondered if he was doing the right thing. But the moment Pidge had reminded him about Oriande, a small shiver had slithered down his body, curling in his toes. And all he had thought about had been Keith.

Keith, who had returned after years of absence, even if it had not been his intentions at all. The first time Keith had disappeared, Shiro had not chased after him. But now, he had the chance. He put his things together. The gloves held most of the cold away, but even with the sun finally filtering over the mountain line, the temperatures did not rise much. Shiro turned back to his horse. The stallion, his pride, and joy, was watching him patiently. His intelligent eyes following his every move. Shiro did not think about what he was doing, there was a nearly meditative state to it. He took a piece of paper from the bottom of his bag and penned a short message onto it. Then he took down the saddle and the reins and put them into a small cave at the end of the outcropping.

Then Shiro clipped the message into the thick mane before he tickled the horse between the ears, down the snout, and gave him a firm clasp to send it running. It stopped after a few feet looking back. Shiro made a shooing motion, in answer it pawed at the stony earth. With a heavy heart, Shiro picked up a stone and threw it, it hit the horse lightly on the backside, it walked back another foot before stopping. He threw another rock, and the horse went a few more feet. Again and again, finally it huffed once and fell into an easy gallop away. Shiro waited a few moments once his horse was out of view, then he shouldered the bags he needed, while hiding the rest with the saddle before he set off up the mountain again.

It was slower, Shiro also found out he was less in shape than he remembered. When the darkness fell, faster than down in the plains, he made camp again. A little cave gave Shiro the opportunity to make a small fire to warm him up a bit and to cook a simple meal of oats and water. The next day and the day after did not change much. The nights were filled with nightmares of darkness and glowing light, of finding nothing at his destination, of being condemned for the rest of his life. The days brought pale grey light and colder winds with every foot he climbed up. He did not count the passing mornings or the oncomings nights. Shiro stopped thinking about the people he had left at home or asking himself if he had made the right choice. The bottom line was that he had done it, and there was no way back. Only up. A grim smile at his own bad pun stole over his face. With a sigh, he packed his stuff and kept going.

In the setting light of yet another ending day, he finally found himself at the top of a plateau. It looked strange up here, a tiny valley, that seemed to be a river bed in early spring, when the snow melts thundered down into the land below, bringing floods and freshwater. Shiro saw small monoliths with strange symbols. As he walked closer, he recognized them as the Galra language he had seen on the maps. His fingers traced the indentation in the cold stone. He stood and looked around. This must be the place Pidge had talked about.

The daylight was fading fast. The sun setting behind the mountain peaks, casting long shadows that plunged the whole area right into darkness. With a sigh, he found an overhang and made camp. He would check for the crack in the wall in the morning.

That night Shiro only dreamed of Keith. Not the older one, the one he had fallen in love with all over again, but the young one. The grumpy and lonely kid he had met all those years back, when had himself been just a teen, eager to see the world, and so naive in regards to so many things. He dreamed of their chases through the woods, swimming in the lake, the scolding of his parents, when they had been late again, and the conspiracy smiles they shared behind their backs. Shiro dreamed of the last time he had truly been happy.

Shiro woke. He blinked into the ongoing darkness. There was no silvery light yet on the horizon. The morning was still hours away. But he was awake. Had something woken him? He listened into the world around him. But besides the wind, that was thundering through the field, there was nothing.

Or was there? A faint whistle, just a smattering of sounds. He got up, concentrating fully on it. There it was again. A slight sound to his left. Shiro peered into the darkness. His eyes slowly adjusting. There was something darker along the wall, a crack. He stood up, and made his way over, mindful of the stones and the uneven ground. He could not see far, he was mostly running his fingers alongside the wall, to not fall over or get lost. Shiro felt the crack first before he saw it. The air coming out of it was distinctly warmer than the surrounding temperature. His fingers curled around the edges, the sharp stone digging into his glove. He looked back to his things and then at the hole again. It was just about the right size for him. He could wait for the day, pack all of it together, or go now.

Now?

Shiro swallowed and stepped through. He found the rope Pidge had spoken about. His robes were heavily you pulling him down, when he descended. At the end of it he took a leap of faith and droped, landing smoothly. He felt sweaty, the air was stifling and hot. When he turned around, Shiro was startled by the big looming lion head, or was it a tiger? He swallowed, standing still. Would it start moving, talking, maybe even eating him? But the stone remained still, merely watching. It's dark eyes, illuminated through a shimmery light from the side, tracking him.

Shiro blinked, and walked around, slowly. Towards the faint light.

The first thing he noticed was the wind. A breeze that ruffled his hair and tugged at his clothes. It was cool, fresh, a bit crisp. His feet found stone, the blinding light around him slowly dissipating. A hallway with open windows appeared to both sides. As Shiro walked closer and peered through them, he saw a blue sky and white clouds. A bird of prey soared under him. Through the clouds, he caught glimpses of grey stone and green woods. He squinted against the light and imagined that the brown specks along the mountain range under him might be houses.

He turned and began walking again, deeper down the hallway. His eyes trailed the impressive murals in shining colors, speaking of a history he did not quite understand. A thought made him step closer. Did he know those people?

Was he where he thought he was?

A light at the end of the hallway drew Shiro closer. When he stepped out into the open, the sun was blinding, he raised his arm to shield his eyes for a moment. After they had adjusted, he marveled at the terrace he found himself on, interconnected through stairs with more of them, going deeper and deeper. He could see the mountain range, obscured from drifting clouds, saw the prayer ropes gently swaying in the wind. He leaned over the balustrade to see a flock of birds passing by. In the distance, the cry of a bird of prey echoed through the valley. He let his hand trail along the sun warmed stone as he walked down staircase after staircase, passing terrace after terrace.

Shiro had no idea how long he had been walking, but when he turned to ascertain his progress, the upper terraces were obscured by the clouds. He blinked and kept his descent. Slowly the sky turned golden and red; the sun sinking down in his back. Further and further. His feet ached, his knees hurt when he finally sat down on the even plain. In the distance, he could see another looping terrace construction going up to a bigger building, colossal and dark. Instead, he turned around to face the direction of the mountain range, with those clusters of green and brown. The stones under Shiro’s feet turned into the gravel of a narrow road. Small stone monoliths lined the path to both sides. The same symbols carved into them as the ones on the plateau. He walked and walked. The sun finally dipped below the mountain, the sky turning dark blue and black. Lights flickered on, dancing above the monoliths in a fire like shape. They were cool to his touch. Insects gathered around them, a small cloud of moth-like creatures he had never seen before.

Shiro passed houses, dark without movement in them. Their gardens crowded and neglected. Prayer ropes bouncing in the soft night wind.

As he reached a crossroad, he heard the sound, a low key whistle, an answering bark, followed by laughter. Shiro’s pulse quickened. He turned around, trying to pinpoint where the sound was coming from. His eyes wandered row upon row of houses, nestled on the downside of the mountain, some directly next to each other, other further apart, everyone with a little garden in the front.

Finally, he found a light. Flickering, in one of the windows, a dark silhouette dancing before it, together with a much shaggier shape. Shiro ran. Up and to the side, up and to the left, up and up and up. When he reached the fence, he was out of breath. His feet crunched on the gravel, the one inside must have surely heard him. So when he reached the small gate and was able to look up again, his heart skipped a beat, because he saw nothing. No light, no figure, nothing.

Had he imagined it?

Shiro blinked again.

“Please, please, please.” He whispered.

The gravel crunched again. Shiro squinted into the darkness. There was movement at the opening of the hut. His heart took a double beat.

“Keith?” Shiro called. “Keith, is that you?”

There was a pause in the movement.

“Shiro?”

And Shiro laughed and sobbed and laughed some more. When Keith was finally in his reach, he grabbed him and hugged him and whispered sweet words and promises into his hair. And Keith let him, hugging him right back, shaking with unspent tears.

“But how?” Shiro would ask him later, as they lay intertwined on the narrow bed, holding each other, reassuring themselves that this was true and real. “How?”

“It is a gift from the goddess. A thank you. But I’m still half-galra, and the Galra have no place anymore in the real world. I can only exist here, in Oriande, where time has started flowing again.

“So, you are bound here?”

“Something like it.”

“But if I hadn’t come…”

Keith shrugged. “Then you wouldn’t be here.” He smiled at Shiro, small and fragile. His fingers traced up and down his arm, not able to let go. Shiro was content with that. “How long will you be able to stay?” The tone was careful, every word articulated perfectly.

Shiro smiled “As long as you will have me.”

“But—”

“The are no but’s anymore. None.”

Keith swallowed. “You sure?”

“Yes.”

“Than kiss me.”

And Shiro did.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And this is it, the end, finished, over.
> 
> Thanks for staying with me until the very end. Let me know what you liked! Find me also on twitter as [@sparklefly2](https://twitter.com/sparklefly2).
> 
> Until next time.


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